Pains and Contradictions
by atypicalsnowman
Summary: SS/HP. Slash. When Harry begins to break under the pressures of death and prophesy, help arrives from an unlikely quarter: Snape. Despite their own doubts, manipulations from all sides and hapless interventions combine to bring their two souls together.
1. This Thing, Darkness

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I'm just making the puppets dance for me.

A/N Many thanks to Laurenken1 who held my hand through this, my first story. Also to erosforlogos for an excellent beta job. Any remaining mistakes are my own.

Warning: This story will eventually be SS/HP slash. Warnings for character death (not Snape or Harry), some language, sexual situations in later chapters. This story goes AU after OotP. Some details of book six and seven are used in the story, such as Snape's background. Sorry, but I needed Dumbledore alive.

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"God instructs the heart, not by ideas but by pains and contradictions." -- De Caussade

It seemed to Harry Potter that this moment was coming sooner every night. It began in September. It was June now and it was only getting worse.

He was never in any hurry to get to bed. To him there wasn't enough time in the day for studying or playing exploding snap or getting beaten in chess by Ron. His grades had never been better, come to think of it. Every night he put off the inevitable until even Hermione put her books away and Ron began to give him "aren't you tired yet?" looks.

And so every night it was inescapable. He'd smile at Ron and suggest they turn in just so Ron wouldn't have to. He wasn't sure if Ron even realized that he was staying up for him and not with him. Or that he had been doing so for an entire year and that he was helping him keep this thing, whatever it was, at bay. But he was helping whether he knew it or not and Harry was eternally grateful.

And so every night he treaded familiar steps into his very warm, comfortable bed that had become both his nightly prison and the only place he felt any semblance of sanity.

This time, the anguish hit him as he began to close the curtains around his four poster bed.

It had really begun a few days after Sirius died. After his friends were out of the infirmary and the dust had settled. When was finally able to wrap his mind around that inescapable prophecy.

How many people have their lives planned out for them by fate? Not by parents or preconceived notions or even your own bad choices but fate itself? And no matter what Dumbledore said about Voldemort choosing him, Harry knew instinctively that no man's actions alone had led him to this path. He felt the cold hand of something unavoidable wrap itself around his neck.

Once the reality of it all had set in, he started to realize that what had happened at the Department of Mysteries had been his fault. If he had only remembered that damn mirror, if he had only not been so quick to believe Kretcher, if he had only learned how to properly shield his mind, if he had only realized that there had been an Order member remaining at Hogwarts...

If only, if only, if only, if only...

Although he had blamed Snape at the beginning of all of this, he knew the fault lay totally on his own shoulders. He realized now that he had to stop blaming others and accept responsibility for his own actions. Blaming other people was childish and short sighted and could very well get more people killed. Harry had known Snape was a petty bastard from pretty much the moment he stepped into his first potions lesson. He knew he had been goading Sirius for months about his confinement and that he held absolutely no love for either of them.

He should have known that Sirius would be the first one to jump to his defense. He should have realized that orders or no orders, Sirius would be the one to rush into a fight, wand drawn and throwing curses before he'd even stepped into the room. That he'd be the first one to come to his aid.

These thoughts came to his mind all at once, as he drew the curtains on his bed. Like a sledgehammer, relentlessly hammering the truth into his brain repeatedly.

It's your fault he's dead...

How could it not be when all the pretty evidence slaps him so harshly in the face night after night?

He thinks about throwing up a silencing charm. He had in the beginning, just in case. But fortunately, or unfortunately, he seemed to be even beyond tears. Some nights his body still shuddered as though it had been crying, some shadow of his past naiveté. Truth was, he couldn't remember the last time he had cried.

And so he laid back in his bed and let the images come. He allowed what he kept hidden all day out in the open. His green eyes hardly blinked as they seemed to stare at the curtains surrounding his bed.

It was always the same. Somehow it managed to creep up on him, every single time. How does something continue to surprise you when it happens every night? He would always see Sirius first, falling through the veil with Harry powerless to help him while Remus held him back. Then came the insane cackle of Bellatrix Lestrange. Then the guilt and the pain and oh fuck, the regret. The regret that came to him in those first few moments were enough to strip the voice from his throat. It was like a heavy weight sitting on his chest that made it difficult to draw breath.

Breathing shouldn't be this hard.

Sometimes it occurred to him that he was too young to have this kind of regret. Regret like this is meant for old, tired men who've done horrible things in their lives. Regret was for men like Voldemort, if he even was a man anymore and if he was even capable of human emotion that wasn't hatred or anger.

But then, his mind responded, he was responsible for Sirius' death. And he knew that he wasn't blameless in the death of Cedric Diggory as well. He might be a young man but he already had so many sins to atone for. Circular reasoning visited him night after night and he was never able to get a straight answer.

No, Harry had become a master at hiding those things deep inside of him. He only had his nightly ritual because he knew he'd go right out of his mind if he didn't express all of this in some way. And there was no other way. His friends would think he'd gone mental and he just couldn't trust Dumbledore with something like this. No, after last year his relationship with Dumbledore wasn't what it once was. The idea of trusting the older wizard wasn't even an option these days.

The only one he thought may have an inkling of what Harry was going through was Snape. He'd been on the receiving end of looks that seemed more inquisitive than vindictive lately. It had taken him a few months to notice it. That might have sounded like a long time for someone to notice they were being studied but Snape had been glaring at him for years.

It started early on in the fall, every once in a while at first but more as he began to notice he was being analyzed. Snape would sneak a glance at him during dinner at the Great Hall or he'd feel eyes following him around the dungeon corridor. At first, he was afraid that Snape had noticed something off about him. He'd never been able to block his mind well enough from the man. He was absolutely sure that the Potions Master had seen the grief he hid deep in his mind and he'd be sent to see the Headmaster for his own good. But nothing had come of Snape's curiosity so far.

And now it was the end of the year and Harry took that to mean that the mean old sod just didn't give a damn about whatever he had seen in Harry. This suited him just fine. He didn't need checking up on. Really.

His thoughts of Snape gave him a moment's distraction and he tried to close his eyes to go to sleep. He knew as soon as he fell asleep he would have terrible dreams. But really, the way he existed sometimes felt like he was living a waking nightmare.

Oh, Merlin, what was he going to do when he went to the Dursleys' tomorrow? He'd be alone all day let alone all night. A sense of dread filled his senses.

Well, there was nothing for it. There was no way Dumbledore would let him stay at Hogwarts and he knew he'd have to return to the Dursleys for at least a few weeks. Voldemort had been quiet all year and he knew as well as the Headmaster did that that meant something was coming soon. He wouldn't be allowed to leave the warded house.

He'd have to muddle through it somehow. It was only a few weeks and then he knew he'd be able to stay at the Burrow with Ron. Ron would play Quidditch with him and stay up with him and it'd be like it is now and that was bearable. He could endure this. He had to. As he was reminded night after night, the outcome of this war was in his hands. He needed to endure this, if not for his own sake, then for his friends.

Harry might not have ever mastered Occlumency but he had gotten much better at not allowing his face to show his every thought. He must be succeeding, he thought, because Ron and Hermione were going about their lives like nothing was wrong. And rightly so, Harry thought. There was no way he would burden his friends with this.

With thoughts of his friends on his mind, Harry finally drifted off to sleep.

Hp

In the clear light of day, Harry was able to think clearly. Throwing back the bed curtains and letting the daylight in was a relief every morning. Daylight he could handle. People he could handle. All that other was...something else.

Today was the day of the Leaving Feast. He never really looked forward to the end of the year but this year was different. Today had marked an entire year of quiet from Voldemort. No attacks on his dreams, no attempts to breach his mind. The only move that had been made all year was the disappearance of Lucius Malfoy from Azkaban in October. But Snape reported that other than attending the Death Eater meetings, even Malfoy didn't seem to be taking part in anything overly sinister. All had been quiet.

And so Harry went down with his friends to the feast. He was nervous. No, wait, scratch that. Nervous didn't even began to describe the sea of knots that were currently taking up residence in his stomach.

He entered the Great Hall and sat with his two best friends at the Gryffindor table. They were late and had to be informed by Dean Thomas that Ravenclaw had taken the House Cup this year. The competition for the cup had completely slipped Harry's mind. Things like points didn't really seem important to him right now.

Unlike his previous years, Harry was actually doing a good job of not showing his every emotion on his face. Of course, Harry had had plenty of opportunity to practice his "I'm fine" face recently. He unwillingly found himself thinking of Snape. Fools who wear their hearts on their sleeves, he recalled him once saying to him during those disastrous Occlumency lessons last year. He looked up hesitantly in Snape's direction. Sure enough those black eyes were fixed on him as they had been many times over the year. Harry chanced a look for a moment then lowered his eyes to his plate again. He had no desire to get into a staring contest with the most foul tempered professor in the school.

His mind went back to what was bothering him presently. It was June, school was out for the summer and the train was leaving in a few hours. But there had been not a whisper from Voldemort all year. It seemed unnatural. Voldemort had been ruining Harry's end of term in one way or another since his first year here. He knew something was coming, he could feel it and no manner of him being laughed off by his friends was going to defer his being on guard. Constant vigilance, he thought as he made a mental smile and thought of Mad-Eye Moody.

"Oi, Harry, are you going to eat anything, then?" Ron said as he chewed around a chicken bone.

"Ron, please don't talk with your mouth full. You have all the table manners of a stray dog," Hermione snipped at him. Their verbal fencing may have calmed down a bit this year but it didn't take much to have Hermione nagging at Ron full force. Once again, Harry found himself wondering when they were going to finally get together.

"I'm just concerned about Harry, that's all," Ron swallowed a bit of food and sloshed pumpkin juice down his throat. "Really, mate, you've hardly eaten everything. You're not still nervous about You-Know-Who being all quiet like this year are you?"

"Voldemort, and no, I'm fine. Just not as ravenous as you, apparently." With that, Harry smiled at his friend, served himself some Shepherd's Pie and dug in. He really had no desire to hear Hermione once again tell him that just because Voldemort attacked at this time every year didn't automatically mean he'd do so this year. Really, it could all be a coincidence and Pettigrew in third year really didn't count, now did he?

No, Harry had had quite enough of that, thank you very much.

Hermione gave him a quizzical look but must have seen nothing in his expression that betrayed him and went back to her vegetables.

Harry glanced up at the head table. He had spoken to Dumbledore previously about the lack of action this year. The Headmaster knew that it was worrying him and had tried his best to assure Harry that quiet didn't necessarily spell out doom. Dumbledore tried to reassure him and had even confided in him that Professor Snape had no new intelligence from his work as a spy. Whatever Voldemort was working on wasn't coming to fruition any time soon and the Headmaster wanted Harry to enjoy this time as much as he could.

The elderly wizard had been glancing around the room in a good natured way while sipping his soup. His eyes just then stopped at Harry's and he winked. Harry guessed that the Headmaster would want to speak with him soon. He gave a small nod before turning his eyes back to his meal.

At the head table, Headmaster Dumbledore was standing up from his seat. He quickly murmured something in Professor McGonagall's ear and made his way to the side door passing Severus Snape on the way. "Severus," the Headmaster addressed the Potions Master, "I wonder if I might have a word with you after you've finished your meal."

Recognizing an order when he heard one, Snape answered in the affirmative, "Of course, Headmaster." Thinly veiled order or not, he would not turn the old Headmaster's invitation down. Harry Potter wasn't the only one on edge about the lack of activity from Voldemort's camp.

Snape made a point to have a few more bites of his meal. He didn't want to make it so obvious that he was meeting with the Headmaster. A look down at his young Slytherin charges and he was instantly reminded of the fine line he walked at all times.

Children of his fellow Death Easters were sitting down and eating like they had not a care in the world but Snape wasn't fooled for a moment. Something had to happen soon. It wasn't like the Dark Lord to be quiet for so long. Snape worried that he wasn't as close to the inner circle as he thought.

Snape's attention drifted towards Draco Malfoy, whose eyes were never far from Snape these days. Draco seemed to have developed a crush on his Potions Master and had been flaunting himself in any way he could. Snape inwardly sneered at the wink Draco gave him from his seat but outwardly acknowledged Draco with an almost invisible nod of his head.

Draco Malfoy was the one he had to be the most cautious around. Lucius had long made it known in the Dark Lord's Inner Circle that he did not trust Snape. He was constantly questioning any information Snape brought and made it even harder to dance the dance he had to perform in front of the Dark Lord. Malfoy had grown closer to the Dark Lord since his escape from Azkaban and he used that advantage to whisper in his ear about Snape's supposed disloyalty.

And he knew now that this Malfoy had been assigned to keep an eye on him. The fact that he had developed some school boy crush on him only made matters more awkward for Snape.

Of course, it really was par for course of his life. Really, he shouldn't have been so surprised.

Snape dabbed his mouth with his napkin and rose from the table, black robes billowing as he turned to leave out the faculty entrance and walk up to the Headmaster's office.

Ascending the stairs, he began mentally cataloging what this meeting would entail. He had voiced his suspicions about an attack on the Hogwarts Express to the Headmaster last week. By then it had become obvious that the Dark Lord was not going to call him. Dumbledore just sat back in his chair, stroked his beard and said that Severus was right to be cautious and he would make preparations.

Snape approached the gargoyle and rolled his eyes at the password, 'acid pops,' and rode the stairway up to the Headmaster's office.

Dumbledore was already seated behind his desk, bogged down in what he could only guess was an amalgam of Order information and school paperwork. He noticed the ever present chessboard with its pieces that rarely ever seemed to move. Snape had noticed that around this time last year, a knight had been cut down. He didn't want to think about which piece he was. He absentmindedly noticed Fawkes hanging onto his perch for dear life. Burning day must not have been far off then.

"Come in, Severus. Tea? Lemon drop?" Dumbledore offered from his seat, though he knew Snape had just had a full meal complete with tea in the Great Hall.

Snape sat in the chair directly in front of the large desk. "No, thank you, Headmaster. I've just eaten. Perhaps we can cease the usual banter that goes along with these meetings? Or is that small miracle asking for too much?"

The Headmaster chuckled and said, "Why, Severus I'm sure I don't know what you mean. I do enjoy these little chats of ours. Chocolate biscuit?"

Snape closed his eyes and counted to ten.

In Latin.

Backwards.

"No, Headmaster, thank you. I assume you've summoned me here for a reason and aren't just trying to destroy me by putting me in a diabetic coma."

"Yes, about the students, Severus," the Headmaster didn't miss a beat, even in the face of Snape's sarcasm, "I am concerned with how quiet Voldemort has been this year. I see no reason why we shouldn't make an effort to protect the students going home on the train. One in particular. I'd like you to make the journey with him."

Snape quirked an eyebrow and sneered at that. "Surely there is someone else who can watch the boy. I did not sign up for the Potter guard and I'll not act the boy's servant."

"Severus, it wouldn't be like that as you well know. He needs an escort, however, to his relatives' home in Surrey. The blood wards protect him while he's at home but not on the trip there. I wouldn't ask this of you, Severus, if I didn't believe the threat was real."

So the boy was being returned to that hellish place, Snape thought. What information he had gained from those Occlumency lessons last year had told him all he needed to know about the boy's treatment in that house. With all that Snape had seen in the boy this past year it couldn't be good for him to have to face that again.

"Headmaster, I fail to see how he could be safe at that house. We both know what those muggles are like and with the boy coming of age in little over a month, I fail to see why he has to go back there in the first place."

"Why, Severus I didn't know you cared for the boy. What a delightful turn of events," the Headmaster smiled and his eyes twinkled.

Snape sneered at this, "I assure you my loathing of Potter continues to know no bounds. The boy is as lazy as he is dim-witted. In fact, I'm sure if one were so inclined, one could occupy his mind for hours with shiny objects."

"Now, Severus, you know his marks have gone up this year. What with Sirius' death..."

Finally, we get the to heart of it, Snape thought. "Ah, yes the death of that rabid mutt of a godfather did hit him particularly hard. But if you ask me, Albus, and I notice that you hadn't, Potter hasn't been the same since he pulled the Diggory boy's body out of that maze two years ago. It seems rather pointless to give the boy a guard only to have him trod back into that prison where you know he's being abused, one way or another," Severus paused here for emphasis that he really did not need.

"What you really need to look out for, Albus, is his mental health. He's acting far too healthy for a boy who's suffered what he has suffered through."

Dumbledore had to stop a small smile from creeping onto his face. His stoic Potions Master was finally showing a little sympathy for the boy he had hated so much. "I find your concern for Harry wonderful, Severus, but I assure you I've spoken to the boy and he seems to be in good spirits. A little nervous perhaps but that's understandable with the times we're living in."

Snape blinked. He couldn't understand how the most powerful wizard of his time as well as an accomplished Legilimens did not know what was transpiring under his own nose. What he had observed all year from the boy could not go unsaid. To anyone watching, Potter's behavior had changed greatly this past year. Gone was the arrogant, reckless child Snape had always seen. Potter seem to walk around with the weight of the world on his shoulders these days. Dumbledore had to be made to understand the fine line he walked with his charge.

"Understand this. I am a spy, Albus, I am your spy. And my clandestine services do not begin and end around Voldemort's makeshift throne room. I notice things, Headmaster. That boy is not well. The closest thing he had to a father figure, much as I am loathe to admit that Black could mentor a toad, has been dead a year and the boy blames himself. If you don't do something to help that boy soon, your finely sharpened weapon that you've forged so skillfully is going to crack right down the middle. Potter is not as well as he makes himself seem."

Dumbledore frowned at that last. He trusted Severus Snape with a great many things. Snape was seldom wrong in his observations. Perhaps he should have a more in depth talk with Harry. It couldn't hurt and he did enjoy talking to the boy. Delightful child that he was.

Once again he was reminded of how much was invested in Harry. The prophecy had said that the boy would have the power the Dark Lord knows not. Dumbledore again thought how that power was love. Harry had such a capacity to love.

"I will talk with Harry, Severus. It is possible that I may have missed something in all my dealings with him."

"Yes, it's so difficult for the Puppetmaster to keep in touch with the puppet. So easy for the strings to get tangled after all," Snape said not too kindly.

"Severus! That was uncalled for."

"Perhaps but no less true. I'll take your Golden Boy down to the train and I'll escort him back to that prison he calls a home but I will not smile while I do so, nor do I approve."

"That is your own prerogative, Severus. I'm glad to see you're taking an interest in the boy at last."

Snape once again damned all Gryffindors and their oversimplification of complex situations. "I'm not a fool, Albus, nor am I so blinded by hate that I can't see the truth. The boy's fate is directly related to my own. It's been that way since...always. I merely question the morality of raising a boy for one sole purpose. What's to happen to the weapon once its done its job?"

"Harry is not a weapon, Severus. He's a boy and he'll grow up to fulfill his destiny and live whatever life he wants afterward. Really, Severus, this is unlike you. Where is all this coming from?"

"At the risk of sounding like a cliche, things are too quiet, Albus. Something is going to happen soon. I simply want us all to be prepared, most especially the boy you've placed all our hopes upon."

The Headmaster considered this, "I do appreciate that, Severus and I do appreciate your concern for what goes on in Harry's house. I assure you, the abuse is more a form of neglect. They don't actually abuse him."

"Ah, now neglect is not a form of abuse? Pity, I must have missed that meeting. You can lie to yourself all you'd like about the boy, Albus. Merlin knows I have no experience in having to make decisions that effect other people's lives," Snape sneered, "but do not lie to me. I think that after all we've been through I deserve a bit more than that," and with that Snape stood up and turned on his heel to leave the room, leaving Dumbledore speechless.

Dumbledore steepled his fingers and rested his chin on his hands. If he started to think on all that Harry had been through at his hand, he would start to question every decision he had made in that boy's life. He had not enjoyed sending Harry to the Dursleys. He knew what life awaited him there, but he had no choice. The blood wards...

Yes, the blood wards. There was no way he could be harmed while he dwelled in the house that kept his mother's blood. That's why he had to stay there, Dumbledore repeated to himself as he had a countless number of times since Harry Potter had come back to Hogwarts.

He absentmindedly ran his eyes over the chessboard. The day Harry Potter came to Hogwarts was the day he had switched his own position on that chessboard. He was no longer the King that all the other pieces protected. That suited him just fine.

He was interrupted from his musings by a knock on the door. Harry Potter walked through into the office, "Professor McGonagall said you wished to see me, Headmaster."

"Yes, Harry, please come in. Tea? Lemon drop?"

"No, thank you. Did something happen, Headmaster?" Harry seemed to shuffle his feet as he walked over to the chair that Snape had just vacated. "Did Snape find something out about Voldemort?"

"Professor Snape, Harry, and no, we haven't received any word since we last spoke. No, I called you up here to tell you that we're going to be very cautious with the students returning on the train this year. Professor Snape will personally escort you to Hogsmeade and then to your relatives' house."

Harry's face fell a little at that. "Professor Snape?" A sense of dread came over Harry. "Sir, do you think that's wise? I mean, we don't get along very well, do we?"

"Perhaps that's been true in the past, Harry. But I think in dark times like these allies are made. What is that old adage about war making strange bedfellows...er... no, not that one perhaps but I believe that if you make an effort to make peace with Professor Snape, things will be better between the two of you. Have a little faith, Harry."

"Faith doesn't really enter into it, sir. He hates me. He hated me first for being my father's son and then because of that incident last year... well now he hates me for me."

"Trust me, Harry. Try to make a peace with Professor Snape and I'm sure things will get better. But for now, tell me, how are you?"

The question threw Harry for a loop for a moment and he responded with the standard, "Fine, Headmaster, thank you. How are you?"

"Oh, I'm well, my boy, but tell me, how are you feeling really? I know that things have been very stressful for you and what with all the events of the past year..."

Harry knew what he was about now. The Headmaster was trying to make sure he wasn't going to crack under the pressure. How nice of him to finally ask, right as he was about to get on a train and leave for two months.

"Really, Headmaster, I'm doing fine. It was kind of hard last year, what with...everything, but I think I've got a handle on it now. My grades went up this year and I think I'll do well on my NEWTs, so..."

"Splendid, my boy. Glad to hear you're doing well."

He really hadn't given the man more than a few reassurances and yet that was enough to placate the Headmaster. He didn't say he was shouting with joy from the rooftops. Shouldn't it be more difficult to lie to the most powerful wizard of the age?

Well, maybe if he doesn't really want to hear the truth, it's not exactly lying, he told himself. As soon as he thought it, he immediately knew it was true.

Harry stood up, thanked the Headmaster and went down to the door. He had a limited amount of time now to gather his things and get himself to the front gates where he was sure to meet up with Snape.

Hp

"Potter! Stop your dawdling, boy, we don't have all day!" Snape bellowed from the carriage he had reserved for Harry and presumably his two friends.

Sure enough, Harry, Hermione and Ron startled at the sound of their professor yelling and made a mad dash for the thestral drawn carriage.

"Get in, you three. I'll not tolerate any of the senseless drivel that usually passes for conversation from the three of you so if you desire to remain hex-free on this little trip you'll keep your mouths shut," Snape snapped as they all got in the carriage.

"Yes, Professor," the three of them muttered. Ron gave Harry a meaningful look of dread and rolled his eyes.

Which was a very stupid thing to do, really.

"Anything to say, Mr. Weasley? Tell me, do you reserve your most choice pearls of wisdom for when you are departing the school and not in residence? If so, please enlighten me, I do love to be entertained."

"No, sir, sorry, sir," Ron said in tone that said he really wasn't sorry. Hermione gave Ron a sharp jab of her elbow and a dirty look. At least the professor couldn't take points or give detention but Ron had no desire to see the end of the foul tempered Potions Master's wand.

"Good," Snape said as the carriage got underway. Snape lowered his voice when he spoke, "Now there's another reason why I want you to remain quiet on this trip other than the personal advantage of not having to listen to an insolent brat, his moronic best friend and an insufferable know-it-all."

The three of them grimaced at his descriptions of them but remained quiet. "The reason I'm escorting Potter to his home is that the Headmaster, as well as myself, believe the Dark Lord may be planning an attack on the train while the students are boarding. I need you to keep your mouths shut and your eyes open. If hearing a crack of apparition can give us just a moment of warning, that may be what we need to gain the advantage in an attack. I want your wands out and a hex on the tips of your tongues. Am I making myself clear?"

All previous sentiment of hatred for their professor swept away, the three friends nodded their heads and answered, "Yes, Professor." A look of kinship between them acknowledged that Snape wasn't their loathed professor right now. Right now he was an Order member and the one giving them direct orders on what was about to transpire. The events of last year had helped them mature enough to know that they couldn't go off and play the heroes anymore. Time for playing was over and they had to take what was happening around them seriously.

Harry knew this to be true above everyone else. As much as he was loathe to admit it, even to himself, he was glad it was Snape that was escorting him. A brief look around earlier had revealed Moody and Tonks and a few other Order members but he was glad that he had the resident Dark Arts expert of Hogwarts next to him. If the last year taught him anything, it was that he had to trust Snape or people died. As much as he might have hated the ugly bastard, he was a loyal ugly bastard and wanted Voldemort dead as much as Harry did.

They made the trip in silence, as Snape had ordered, and disembarked from the carriage at Hogsmeade Station. Hagrid was busy escorting the first years onto the train. The younger years were behind them and Harry, Ron and Hermione seemed to be at the end of the line.

Snape got out of the carriage last and cast his eyes about sharply but without moving his head, "Keep your eyes open, you three. Potter, stay close to me. I want to get you on that train as soon as possible."

Harry frowned at that. Wouldn't that put the other students trying to board the train in danger? He was about to open his mouth for the first time since he boarded the carriage when suddenly the unmistakable sound of apparition was heard.

Snape stepped in front of Harry immediately and scanned the area. Harry could hear Ron tell Hermione to get behind him while Hermione yelled at Hagrid to get the first years on the train immediately. Moody and the other Order members all had their wands out and like Snape, their eyes were roaming the station.

Then several things happened all at once. Several other cracks of apparition were heard, enough to alert Hagrid and the other students who recognized the sounds for what it was. The students who made up Dumbledore's Army seemed to realize what it meant.

Then suddenly, a laugh that had haunted Harry's waking nightmares flooded Harry's senses. The shrill cackle of Bellatrix Lestrange seemed to fill the silence of Hogsmeade Station.

Hagrid roared at the students to board the train as quickly as possible. He used his body as a shield to get the younger years on board but it wasn't necessary. No one had fired a shot. Harry couldn't even see them.

But he could hear her. He had to quickly calm himself down from the fury he felt at hearing her laugh. He relaxed his fist as he held his wand in a death grip. He knew that if he didn't gain control of his emotions, he'd be blind with rage and he doubted she was the only Death Eater present.

He was proven correct rather quickly after that when Lucius Malfoy, Macnair, Dolohov, Travers and five other Death Eaters he did not know walked onto the Hogsmeade Station platform to join her.

Strolled would describe it better. They seemed to not have a care in the world.

Lucius stepped forward rather quickly, "Moody, how lovely to see you this afternoon. Tell me, how are you enjoying your time with your remaining body parts?"

Moody threw a binding spell at one of the Death Eaters, which he deflected.

Malfoy threw up his hands, "Now, now. Let's play nicely. We only want one thing and once we get it, you're all free to go on your way. We wouldn't dream of injuring the defenseless children on this train. Our Lord has no desire to destroy the pure and half-bloods. We come here in good faith, so let's just put our wands away, shall we?" Lucius seemed to purr even while looking down a senior auror.

"Azkaban finally destroy what was left of your mind, eh, Malfoy? The only reason you're not dead is because you're acting like a coward and attacking in front of children. I thought you'd sunk low before..."

While Moody was busy distracting the Death Eaters, Snape was trying to inch Harry towards the train without being seen. Harry could feel Ron and Hermione directly behind him and he grabbed Hermione's hand, a tangible reassurance that his friends were alright.

"Oh, now where's the traitor going with little baby Potter? Are you trying to get him on the train, traitor? It's him we want, so hand him over before we start to make nice with all the little ones," Bellatrix's foul voice made itself known again.

Snape looked over towards the Death Eaters and raised his wand. He had to think quickly. The fact that he had not been informed of this attack meant that he had either been discovered as a double agent or that he was being tested by the Dark Lord. Quickly, he made to answer the deranged woman's taunt.

"Back down, Bellatrix. You're outnumbered and Dumbledore will be hear momentarily. This isn't going to end well."

"Not going to end well for you at least, Severus," Malfoy drawled. "Give us the boy and everyone else goes free. It's very fair. Only one little runt of a half blood, that's all we want. Really, you can't like him that much."

Snape was still shielding Harry with his body. He knew this stalemate wouldn't last long. Already he could see the Death Eaters had their wands pointed at Tonks and Moody while Lucius had his wand pointed directly at Snape.

Hagrid had been loading the children onto the train the entire time the banter was being played out and now only the upper years remained. He started to shepherd the fifth years onto the train but some of them refused to budge.

A brief look around the station on Snape's part told him that Draco Malfoy was already safely aboard the train, avoiding taking sides.

How very aristocratic of him.

"See now, Severus," Malfoy the elder said, "most of the students are already on the train. We've kept our word and allowed them to get on. No one needs to get hurt here. Now give us, Potter," Malfoy seemed to stalk forward, his robes almost swaying around him. "I won't ask again, Severus."

Harry was enraged. There were still many students standing around the Hogwarts Express and Order Members standing to protect them. If anyone was killed, it would be his fault. He knew he couldn't handle being responsible for another death. His green eyes were glaring daggers at Malfoy and if looks could kill, the man would be dead on his feet. Harry started to try to move around Snape.

But Snape didn't budge. Instead he looked quickly towards Hogwarts, hoping that Dumbledore's numerous eyes and ears in Hogsmeade had already altered him to what was transpiring. Then with a slight nod to Mad-Eye Moody and Tonks he set in motion what was to happen next.

The next thing that was heard was Bellatrix insane cackle at the top of her voice as the curses started flying.

Moody, Tonks and the other Order members were firing curses as quickly as they could give them voice. Red and green streaks flew through the air.

The Death Eaters spread out. They were organized. Some of them were firing curses and deflecting the hexes coming from the Order while Lucius and Bellatrix were giving all their attention to Snape and Harry. Hagrid was dragging the remaining students onto the train.

"_Impedimenta_," Malfoy aimed a curse at Harry, which Snape easily shielded.

"Stop this nonsense, Severus. We aren't going to kill the boy. The Dark Lord wants him alive." Malfoy continued to try to reason with Snape as if anything he was saying made sense.

Of course the Dark Lord wanted Potter alive. He wanted him alive and in good condition so he could torture and kill him himself. What was Lucius playing at?

Lucius blocked the Petrificus Totalus that Hermione fired at him and the Expelliarmus fired by Ron.

"My Lord did not give me orders regarding the mudblood and the blood traitor, so I suggest you have them step aside, Severus."

Bellatrix screeched, "Do the little ones want to have a nice play again? Didn't have enough last time?" And with Bellatrix shouted, "_Crucio_," and Hermione went down, writhing on the ground.

"Hermione!" Ron shouted, and aimed his wand at Bellatrix and fired off every curse he could think of.

Harry attempted to get out from behind Snape to get in the fight but Snape was much stronger than he looked. He had Harry curled behind his body and was somehow still moving his feet quickly enough to dodge Malfoy's curses.

Bellatrix ended the curse and Snape took the opportunity to cast a silent Impedimenta, taking her out of the fight for the moment.

Now it was just him and Malfoy. The other Death Eaters were still fighting the other members of the Order.

"There's no one watching now, Severus. You can take just one step back and let me take the boy. You can swear that I took you down, protecting your other young...charges," the last he sneered as he took in the sight of Ron trying to help a shaking Hermione off of the floor.

Snape refused to take part in this ridiculous banter that the other Death Eaters seemed to revel in. His mind was completely focused on getting Harry out of this situation alive.

"_Confringo_," Snape sent a blast towards Malfoy which he blocked and sent toward a pillar, which sent the roof of a nearby building crumbling to the ground.

"Gods, Severus, what happened to you? You used to be one of the rotten ones and I liked you for that."

"_Sectumsempra_," Snape aimed again for Malfoy and managed to make a slice across his jaw.

While Malfoy was cupping his face to access the damage, Snape turned minutely to his students and ordered, "Now's your chance, run for the train, all of you." He pushed Harry and grabbed at Hermione's blouse to move the still injured witch faster.

Harry hesitated for a split second. What happened next seemed to transpire in slow motion. Before he could even put one foot in front of the other a green light appeared at the corner of his eye, heading right for him. Snape must have seen it too because his eyes, which had been looking directly at Harry, widened. He did not hesitate to throw himself over Harry, shielding him and sending them both crashing onto the ground.

The green light was above Harry and for a split second he thought it had hit the train and dissipated. Then he felt a body fall on top of him and heard Hermione scream.

Snape was up and on his feet before Harry could register what had just happened. The Potions Master was firing off spells Harry had never even heard of, trying to bring down Malfoy, when finally Mad-Eye rushed over, bloodied and exhausted looking to help Snape.

"Well, it wasn't who I was aiming for but one less blood traitor is no great loss, now is it?" Malfoy said as he took in the sight of the body draped over Harry. "This isn't over, Severus. I can't imagine how you'll manage to slither your way out of this one. Very soon, you'll wish that curse had hit you after all. You won't survive his wrath for long," and with that Malfoy quickly picked up Bellatrix's unconscious body and disapparated.

Only when the cracks of disapparation were heard did Harry attempt to get up, but something was on top of him. He angled his head so that he could look to see what heavy thing was crushing him, though a part of him already knew.

There in his view, he saw Hermione shaking and crying and holding the head of Ron Weasley in her arms. His blue eyes were open and lifeless and his body was like dead weight on top of Harry.

There were no words, no feelings of shock, disbelief, sorrow or anger as his eyes took in Ron's body. He felt absolutely nothing as he saw the remains of his best friend. His heart felt like a dead thing in his chest and the feeling of not being able to breathe was back.

Harry's mind simply couldn't take in what he was seeing. His heart couldn't register what had just happened.

This must be one of his waking nightmares. It had to be. All the principle players were here. Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix's insane cackle. Even the people who only popped up occasionally were present: Moody, Snape, Ron and Hermione. He just needed to pull back the curtains and all of this could be over.

Ron couldn't be dead. Ron was going home on the train. He'd be at the Burrow all summer and he'd send Harry mail with that twittering little featherball of an owl of his and he was going to grow up some day and get the nerve to ask Hermione out on a date. He was not going to die at a train station at seventeen at the hand of Lucius Malfoy.

Snape viewed the damage of the platform, his greasy hair plastered against his pale face. Two Death Eaters were bound by Order Members and Hestia Jones lay lifeless on the floor. When he turned to look at Potter and his friends he already knew what he would see.

It still didn't prepare him for the sight of it.

Hermione Granger was screaming Weasley's name at the top of her lungs and grasping at his head as if he could still feel it.

And Potter.

Gods.

Potter was just sitting there, his best friend's body still partially covering his own. Potter just sat there with a blank look on his face, staring at the lifeless body of his best friend. Watching his other best friend break down right in front of him.

There was a crack of apparition and suddenly the man they had all been waiting for appeared.

Snape turned from the horrible scene to look directly into those blue wrinkled eyes. There was no twinkle present in them now.

Dumbledore's eyes looked directly at Severus then at the scene in front of him. Snape saw the shock of recognition as the Headmaster registered the Weasley boy's body.

At some point, the youngest Weasley girl had made her way over to the scene to see what had happened. She didn't even seem to be crying, it was more like an awful shudder was running through her body as she took in the sight of her brother.

Potter just continued to sit there. As if his best friend wasn't lying lifeless in front of him and his friends weren't gnashing their teeth over his body.

While Hagrid and Order members tended to the children and Dumbledore summoned aurors from the Ministry, Snape watched as the last shreds of Harry Potter's innocence slipped away from him. He could almost see the light in his eyes as a tangible thing as it was going out.

It occurred to him that of all the atrocities he had witnessed in his life, this might be the most horrible thing he had ever seen come to pass. Not the crying of the girls, for he had seen women weep for their men time and time again. But the silence, the shock and the dead weight of disbelief that was written all over Potter's face and in his eyes.

And he knew in that moment what it would have been like to witness Sirius Black's death at the hands of the Dementors. Nothing was worse than bearing witness as a soul died.


	2. A Tapestry of Quiet Desperation

Disclaimer: These characters are not mine. I'm merely breathing new life into them. Many thanks to all who reviewed.

"The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation." -- Henry David Thoreau

No one was more surprised than Severus Snape when Dumbledore pulled him aside and sharply whispered, "You need to get Harry on that train now, Severus."

Snape's usual mask of indifference slipped for a moment as he tried to access whether the Headmaster was playing some sort of cruel joke on them. His eyes went over to the young Gryffindor who was now sitting on the floor, eyes still glued to his friends as Aurors were coming to take away the body of Ronald Weasley.

"You can't actually be serious, Headmaster. You want me to take that boy," he pointed at Harry who looked as though at any moment he might be carted off to St. Mungo's for psychological evaluation, "and put him on a train full of inquisitive, insensitive brats for hours just after his best friend was murdered right in front of him?"

Dumbledore gave pause for a moment but his eyes seemed steeled. Whatever he had planned, there was no way Snape was going to undo it. "Well, I suppose I could make an unauthorized portkey. It wouldn't be a too large a burden and I'm sure the Ministry wouldn't mind overlooking it in light of these events. But that would put him back in his relatives' home in moments rather than hours."

And that was really all he had to say. Merlin knew what would happen to the boy if he were dropped off in Surrey in this condition. His relatives would have free reign over Potter; the boy would have no means to protect himself, Snape feared.

Snape met Dumbledore's eyes but the Headmaster was looking off to the distance where Tonks was pulling out a black quill and holding onto Weasley's body. She said something Snape couldn't hear and then they were gone.

In the corner of his eye, Snape saw Minerva McGonagall approach the scene. She looked over to Snape and the Headmaster then to the now frantically sobbing Hermione Granger. She seemed hesitant to comfort the crying witch that was mourning her friend so horribly but she knelt down and embraced the girl anyway. Snape could understand her hesitation. He wasn't very good at comforting people either.

Granger seemed to welcome the touch of her Head of House. She grabbed the older witch and held on for dear life, her weeping still audible to all around her.

Looking over at Potter, Snape could see that the people surrounding him were as at a loss of how to deal with the boy. Still, as Dumbledore said, he needed to get him on the train.

Bracing himself, Snape walked over to his student. Glazed green eyes seemed to be taking in the scene of McGonagall rocking Granger back and forth but Snape doubted Potter even understood what was going on.

He knelt on the floor to be on eye level with his student, "Potter, we still need to get you on the train." He waited a moment for a response and receiving none, he grasped Potter's shoulder. "Potter...Harry...it's still not safe for you here. We have to get you on the train."

Harry turned and lowered his head minutely, recognizing the pale long fingered hand that was resting on his shoulder. Looking up, he met the obsidian eyes of his Potions Master. Funny, they didn't seem as cold as they usually did right now. Harry had barely heard anything his professor had said but one thing stood out.

"Did you just call me Harry?"

Snape blinked. Of all the possible responses to his statement, that was the one he had least expected. Crying, silence, even a violent attack on his person were more probable than what he had just heard.

As loathe as he was to completely ruin his reputation, he had to acknowledge in that moment that he wasn't a completely heartless bastard. He knew when a sharp retort did not form on his lips immediately that he would not hurt the boy further. He may already have a reservation in hell with his name on it but there were some things even he did not do.

"Yes, I did. Please, Harry, will you get on the train?"

There seemed to be a haze clouding Harry's mind. He wasn't entirely sure what was happening at the moment. Everything seemed like he was viewing it without his glasses, although he could feel them on his face. He did recognize his potions professor, however. The large nose and long greasy hair gave him away. He knew he could trust this man. This man had saved his life before.

"Alright, Professor." As he moved to sit up, Harry suddenly seemed to register Hermione crying. While some part of his mind remembered, he did not immediately recall why his friend was so sad.

"What's going to happen to Hermione?" Harry said as Snape made to grab him to finally board the train.

"Don't concern yourself, Mr. Potter. I will take care of Ms. Granger and Ms. Weasley," Professor McGonagall said, her face surrounded by bushy brown hair.

Something about this didn't really sit right with Harry. It didn't seem alright to leave his friend here when she was obviously upset. Ginny too. She was Ron's little sister and...

Ron.

Oh, Gods.

In an instant, the hazy veil that had protected Harry for the last few minutes was lifted and Harry took in everything that was going on around him. Hermione and Ginny crying. The aurors standing around taking statements and talking with the Headmaster. Snape standing besides him expectantly.

Harry shuddered involuntarily and Snape placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Potter but now's not the time. We need to get you on the train. Come with me."

And just like that Snape steered Harry to the train's entrance. Hagrid was still there, seeming to all who surrounded him like a giant sentinel guarding the children who were inside, ready to take out any who would harm them. He moved aside to let Harry and Snape on the train. He gave Harry a pat on the shoulder that was probably a little harder than he had wanted.

As they boarded the train, Harry saw Snape turn back and address Hagrid, "You fought bravely today, Hagrid. The children were fortunate to have you with them."

Harry couldn't see Hagrid's expression but he heard him say, "They could'a done a lot better 'an me." Harry heard the half giant begin to sob, "I couldn'a save 'em all now could I?"

Harry could barely make out Snape's reply but vaguely heard, "I believe the fault for that lies with Malfoy and with myself. There was nothing you could have done." And with that Snape turned to usher Harry through the Hogwarts Express.

Harry was stunned by what he had heard. He knew the half giant liked the Potions Master but he had no idea that went both ways. And why was Snape blaming himself? Anyone with half a brain should know whose fault this really was. Still a bit in a daze, he let Snape guide him through the hall, looking for an empty booth.

Students were pressed up against the glass of their compartments, straining to get a look at the Boy-Who-Lived. Harry realized that at least half of them had probably seen what had happened outside on the train station. Once again, he buried the long shudder that was trying to make its way through his body. He could not acknowledge that any of this was real. He was still in a nightmare. He just needed to open the curtains.

Snape saw the intrusive children trying to spy on the latest tragedy of Potter's life and was disgusted. He sneered at the students and gave them all a look that clearly said 'mind your own business.' Slowly they all returned to their seats.

Snape quickly assessed that there were no completely empty cabins left available and knew that simply would not do. One look at Potter told him that the boy was ready to snap into a thousand pieces. He flung the closest door open and bellowed, "Out, all of you."

Some lower year Hufflepuffs sitting in the cabin seem to hesitate for a moment, like prey waiting to see how the predator was going to attack.

"Did you not understand what I said? Get moving!" Snape growled. The young Hufflepuffs all but fled and went to join friends in other compartments.

Snape moved Harry into the compartment and Harry went to sit down by the window. He could see McGonagall helping Hermione and Ginny on the train. He wondered briefly if they would be joining him. He half hoped they didn't. He didn't think he could look either of them in the face right now.

While Harry was sitting quietly, Snape had his wand out and was muttering charms at the door. The glass seemed to take a sheen to it it had not had before and Harry wondered what the professor had done.

"No one can see in now, Potter. No prying eyes to disturb you," the professor seemed to look at Harry expectantly.

Harry didn't know what the professor was looking at him for. He realized that Snape had probably done him a favor by keeping people from looking at him like some animal at the zoo. "Thank you, Professor," he said softly.

Snape took his seat opposite Harry. He honestly did not know what to do now. Giving the boy any privacy was ill advised. Just because Lucius Malfoy and the others had left for now did not mean they would not come back. And having Draco and the other children of Death Eaters on the train meant that he especially wasn't safe if Snape left him for a few moments.

Snape thought of the current situation he was in as the train began to move.

No, Snape would just look away and try to let the boy have a few hours to himself, to prepare for the hell that awaited him in Surrey. Surely he did not want the presence of his evil, heartless bastard of a Potions Master with him while he mourned his friend.

But Potter didn't seem to be mourning at all. That haze that had been present before he had picked him up and all but shoved him onto the train was absent. Potter was just sitting there quietly, not really looking at anything.

It occurred to Snape that Potter probably resented his presence here. He was probably withholding his tears and anguish because he did not want his most hated teacher to see him in a moment of weakness. There wasn't much Snape could do to reassure the boy. He wasn't entirely sure why he would want to except that no one deserved this...silence.

"Potter, I assure you that anything you should...express while we're together in this compartment will remain between us. He was your friend, Potter. You have the right to mourn him."

Bottle green eyes looked up from behind round glasses. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean, Professor." Harry's shoulders were slumped and a sheen of sweat graced his brow. "I'm fine. I don't need to mourn anybody."

Wonderful. Now on top of everything else, Snape had a Potter in denial to deal with. But he had been present in the aftermath of death enough times to know when someone was delusional, in denial or just hiding. After all he had seen in Potter over the last year, he knew the boy was suffering from the latter. And he could guess why. It was the same with Black the year before.

The boy blamed himself. He didn't think he had the right to mourn his friend.

Snape did not look forward to what he had to do next. But he had a duty to protect the boy. He would do so in whatever way was necessary. He could not send him back to that house in this state.

"You blame yourself," Snape said, not as a question but as a statement.

Harry looked up, glaring at his professor, "Blame myself for what exactly, sir?"

"You think you're the reason Ronald Weasley is lying in state at the Ministry. You believe yourself to be at fault for his death when it was really Lucius Malfoy's and my own fault..." Snape didn't get to finish his statement before he was interrupted.

"It was my fault!" Harry stood up from his seat. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Was Snape being deliberately cruel, twisting the knife presently residing in Harry's chest? Harry buried his head in his hands, "You don't understand. None of this is happening because of you! You aren't the one who keeps getting the people he loves killed." Harry paced the small compartment, flailing his arms around and shouting. A small part of him was surprised the man hadn't hexed him yet.

"I don't understand, Potter? Fine, enlighten me. Tell me all about how you pushed Sirius Black through the veil at the Department of Mysteries. Please inform me how you were somehow about to cast the Imperius Curse on Lucius Malfoy so he would kill your best friend. Explain it to me, Potter. I want to understand."

Harry was livid. Snape was making fun of him! "How dare you, you utter bastard! Do you have any idea what I go through, do you have any idea of what's just happened?"

"No, Mr. Potter, I do not," Snape said calmly, like he was trying to coax a frightened animal out into the open. "Inform me."

Harry's eyes were wild as he took in the calmly sitting form of Severus Snape, whose robes still bore hex marks and hair and face were still covered in sweat from the battle. How could he be so calm? How could he just sit there when Ron was dead?

"He's dead! He was my best friend and he died because of me. Malfoy was aiming for me, he was there for me, he was trying to kill ME and he missed and Ron died instead," a steady stream of tears were flowing down Harry's face now. He was still pacing but now his hands were making fists and his body was shaking.

"Don't you understand, you heartless bastard, you evil git? You were protecting me but I should have been protecting him! It's my fault. All of this is my fault. Hermione and Ginny are in a compartment crying their eyes out because he's dead and he died because of me. Some auror is going to knock on the door to the Burrow and have to tell Mrs. Weasley that her youngest son is dead. How can you not understand that? Do you have any idea what regret like this feels like?!"

Snape sat silently. Now that Potter was finally talking, he was loathe to interrupt him.

"He's seventeen...he was seventeen. He never got the chance to ask Hermione out on a date. He probably thought he'd have more time. He never got to take his NEWTs, he never got to try out for professional Quidditch, never got to test for the auror program. He never go to do any of that and he never will because I KILLED HIM!"

Harry's face was red and he was breathing like he had just run a mile. His body was shaking so badly, Snape didn't know how he was still on his feet.

"Thank you for telling me this, Mr. Potter. But I fear you are laboring under a misapprehension."

"What?" Harry said, still shouting at the top of his voice.

"Lucius Malfoy wasn't aiming for you when he cast the Killing Curse. He was aiming for me. In the heat of the moment, I thought the curse was aimed at you and I tried to protect you. I didn't realize he had aimed for me and that Mr. Weasley was behind the two of us, trying to keep Ms. Granger standing after Bellatrix had cursed her," Snape said quietly.

"So you see, Mr. Potter, if you are going to blame anyone besides Lucius Malfoy, I invite you to place the blame on me. If I had had a better scope of the situation, I would have been able to protect your friends as well as you. They were students, my charges, and under my protection and I failed them. I failed the Weasley family and Ms. Granger and you. I'll not ask for your forgiveness for there can be none. But I do ask that you not blame yourself when you are obviously not to blame."

Harry seemed to deflate completely. His arms fell lifelessly to his sides and he took the half step backwards as he fell back onto the seat behind him.

"But...why would he have been aiming for you? I was the one he was after."

"Yes, and I was your guard. I seem to recall you trying to squirm your way out from behind me but I would have none of it. You are more important than I am in this war, Mr. Potter. My death would be little more than an inconvenience."

Harry frowned at that. Exhausted after that show of emotion, he was trying to understand all that Snape was telling him. "But that's not true. You're a spy. You're the only eyes and ears we have in Voldemort's court."

Snape inwardly seethed at hearing his old Master's name but said nothing to Potter.

"Hmph. Well, not a spy anymore, or so it would seem, Potter."

Harry paused at that. Only now did he realize what Snape being his guard had meant. "Why would Professor Dumbledore ask you to be my guard if he knew that it would force you to blow your cover? That doesn't make any sense."

Snape tapped his lips and wondered exactly how much he should tell Potter. In the past, he would never even dream of revealing any part of himself to this James Potter replica. However, over the past year, he saw how Potter had matured. The events that troubled his life were shaping him to be more like his friend Lily than his enemy James.

"The Headmaster asked me to protect you because he knows that I would guard you with my life," Snape said quietly.

Snape considered the young man in front of him. There was so much about his own life that he did not know. "Would you care to know the real reason why the people you love keep "dying around you," Potter? It has nothing to do with you, you arrogant child." Harry stiffened at this but Snape silenced him with a hand.

"All that is going on around you actually has nothing to with _you_, Harry." The use of the boy's name seemed to calm him enough to ensure that he would listen to Snape's words. "The Dark Lord chose you. It's all in that bloody prophecy. He chose you when he could have chosen another. He didn't. He made his own enemy, Potter."

"Yeah, I know. Madmen have been making their own enemies since forever. Dumbledore told me this last year."

"Professor Dumbledore and shut your mouth and listen to me for once, you insolent child! The Dark Lord is the one behind all of this. He's the reason why Ronald Weasley is never going to entertain Ms. Granger at the Three Broomsticks or take his NEWTs. He's the reason why Sirius Black isn't here contaminating us with his fleas or barking to be let out for a walk. He and his loyal followers are to blame, not a sixteen year old wizard whose only mistake was being born as the seventh month dies."

Harry was slouching in his seat but he picked his head up at Snape's last words, "Professor Dumbledore told you the prophecy?"

Whatever had been on Snape's lips seemed to fade away. He seemed to slump down in his seat, as if it was possible that the man had anything less than perfect posture. His face lost that emotionless mask and something like pain flashed in his eyes. He cleared his throat as he said, "No, Potter. He didn't. I was there when the prophecy was made."

Snape kept his eyes on Potter as he worked his way through what Snape had just said. Snape could tell the moment he had figured it out. Blind rage took over those emerald orbs followed quickly by a look of incredible disbelief. He saw the fury on the boy's face but also the question.

Snape liked that. A year ago Potter wouldn't have wanted to know the truth. He would have attacked him before he had any answers.

The crime he had committed against the Potters was known only to two people in this world: his two masters. He knew this day would come eventually. He had escaped it for far too long.

Reckoning.

He owed this boy an explanation far more than he did to the Headmaster who had demanded so much of him since that horrible night.

"I was a Death Eater once, you know, Potter." He pulled off his outer cloak and pulled up the sleeve to his jacket revealing the angry looking Dark Mark. "I didn't get this Mark in order to spy on the Dark Lord. I _was_ a Death Eater. I did the things that Death Eaters do and that included giving the information I gathered to the Dark Lord."

Snape took in Potter's face. He wanted to be sure the boy was listening and not just waiting to attack him. He did not want to have to subdue the boy. Sure enough, the enraged face in front of him seemed to be drinking up every word he said.

"When I heard the prophecy, I rushed to my Lord's side and told him everything. Later on, when I learned who the Dark Lord had targeted, I begged for her life. The life of my friend."

Potter's eyes widened at this. Was it so hard to believe he ever had friends?

Well, yes, perhaps it was.

"Yes, Potter, Lily was my friend. She was my only friend. We grew up together. Did that horrid excuse for a woman you call an aunt ever tell you that?"

Potter could only shake his head, his eyes wide. "But in the pensieve, what you called her..."

"Yes, I called her a mudblood. I was a _Death Eater_, Potter," Snape sat up as the volume of his voice grew. "There was a point in my life when I actually believed in all that pure blood rublish. If I hadn't interrupted you going through my private thoughts, you would have seen me begging her for forgiveness. She was my friend and the only person who accepted me for what...who I was." Snape seemed to trip on his words for a moment, which went against everything Harry knew about the man.

"That was the second largest mistake of my life and you bore witness to it," Snape was yelling at Harry now, all his well placed control leaving his body. His pale face went whiter and his eyes were unyielding.

"She was my friend," Snape seemed to echo Harry's words from before. "And when I learned that the Dark Lord had targeted her and your father, I went to Dumbledore. I told him everything I knew. I begged for mercy but more than that I begged for her life. And so she went into hiding with your father and with you. And I received my mercy. But I knew I was not done. I knew there could be no forgiveness, you see. So I started my illustrious career as a spy. And then she died and you defeated him. But I knew, as the Headmaster knew, that he was not truly dead. Evil like that doesn't die that easily, Potter.

"And so I went to teach at the school, under the ever watchful eye of Albus Dumbledore. Because he knew as well as I that this was not over. And the boy, the little child that Lily created would one day be called upon to save the world," Snape made a wide gesture with his hands. Harry had never seen such emotion on his professor's face.

"And I would be called upon to protect him. And I would do so. Not because it's my penance. There can be no forgiveness for what I've done."

"Why then?" Harry croaked, his voice hoarse, "Revenge?"

"Ha! Nothing as convenient as that, I assure you. We're discussing Fate here, Potter. That cold, dark feeling that overtakes you when you think of the prophecy," Snape paused as Harry's face betrayed his feelings, "yes, that boy. That feeling. That's Fate.

"I don't know what would have happened if I hadn't been there to listen to that prophecy. Whether or not someone else would have been there or if the Dark Lord would have found out for himself. But I do know that I was an instrument of Fate that night. When there are prophecies and battles between good and evil Fate is usually involved. I let myself be used in that way, Potter. If I hadn't taken the Mark, if I hadn't been in that hall, I would not have been manipulated like I was.

"If only, if only, if only. But a man can only question himself so many times before he has to take action.

"So you understand why the Headmaster would ask me to guard you. Moody, Tonks, even Lupin would fight to the death for you. But when I fight, I don't only fight for you and I don't only fight for her. I'm fighting for what's left of my bloody soul."

With that the Potions Master's mask of indifference went up and he leaned back in his seat.

"You want to talk about regret, Potter?" Snape sneered, "Let's compare notes."


	3. Overcast in a Neighborhood in Surrey

Disclaimer: These characters are not mine. I'm just breathing some new life into them.

A/N Thank you to all who reviewed and the lovely Laurkenke1 for being a wonderful beta. Please remember that this is AU after Book 5 but I am using aspects of Snape's past from Books 6 and 7 for this story.

The rest of their train ride passed in what Snape would be forced to call a companionable silence. Try as he might, he could not reconcile that fact in his mind. Potter was more than justified to scream at him, curse his name and the day he was born. Or at the very least, could have pestered him with more questions than he had.

But he didn't. The boy just sat there, looking out the window with a contemplative look on his face.

Snape hoped that with all that had transpired in the last few hours, the revelations the boy had experienced would not overburden him.

Potter seemed subdued but not to the breaking point. That look of hopelessness that only Snape seemed to have noticed throughout the year was gone from his face at the moment. Instead there seemed to be a, frankly, beautiful type of mourning.

If Snape wanted to put a word to it, he would be forced to call it introspection. The boy seemed to be lost in thought. Whether it was about his dead friend or what Snape had just revealed to him, he would not hazard a guess.

As the train approached the station, Potter looked up at him for the first time in hours and without hesitation asked a single question, "Why didn't you try harder to teach me Occlumency?"

Again, of all the questions Snape had expected of this boy, that was the one he least expected.

He thought briefly of all the answers that he could give. He could always say that he had tried to teach him Occlumency to the best of his abilities. That Potter was just completely inept when it came to Mind Magic or that the lazy child had not tried when he asked him to. That last was true, at least. He would be justified, he knew. The Headmaster had informed Snape of how and why Potter had come to dream about the Department of Mysteries. He knew the boy was curious as to what was at the end of that dark corridor.

But as much as he was loathe to admit it, something inside him knew he owed this boy the truth. And the real truth was none of those things.

"Because at the time I didn't see you as my friend's son. I looked at you and only saw my enemy. With your behavior at the time, it was very difficult to look at you, see your face and not think of James Potter."

Potter frowned but stopped himself from protesting and seemed to consider that for a moment. Snape could almost see the wheels turning in his head. He knew by the look on his face that he had accepted what Snape said as the truth.

Then Potter opened his mouth and abruptly closed it. He put his head down and avoided Snape's gaze and looked at his fingers.

"Whatever you were going to say, just say it, Potter. I believe we are beyond social niceties at this point."

Potter looked up at him, his green eyes still glassy with the unshed tears that had pooled throughout the trip. "Do you still see me as your enemy's son? Or do you see me more as your friend's?"

Once again the Potions Master had to school his face to mask his surprise. What did it matter to Potter how the man who was responsible for his parent's death saw him? He wanted to reply, 'what difference could it possibly make to you', but stopped himself. The boy looked as though one callous word from Snape would break him. How could his opinion matter so much?

More than that, he did not know how to answer the question. Yes, over the past year he had begun to see the giving nature of his old friend in the boy that sat in front of him. Her quiet strength and also her audacious spirit seemed to be channeled through the boy but he was not his mother. Nor was he his father. Even at his worse, Potter lacked the maliciousness and the apathy that had been present in his old enemy.

"You are your own man, Potter," Snape finally answered.

That answer seemed to please Potter. He gave a small smile and nodded his head. Why his answer satisfied the boy, Snape had no idea.

As the train pulled to a stop, Potter stood from his seat and said, "Thank you, Professor."

Snape only nodded at him.

"Wait, I don't...I don't think..."

"Out with it, Potter," Snape growled.

Harry backed up a step to look him in the eye as Snape stood up to his full height and said, "Thank you for telling me the truth. No one's ever really done that. I mean, other people know more about my own life than I do. I think you're the first person to ever just tell me the truth when I asked for it."

That was an understatement if Snape had ever heard one. Once again, he was baffled at how Potter could somehow be grateful at the information Snape had just given him. He had seen this day coming for sixteen years and had never dreamed that its outcome could be like this.

It almost felt like forgiveness. Except for the fact that Snape knew without a doubt that forgiveness did not exist for men like him.

"I believe I am the one who should be expressing gratitude to you," it was very difficult for Snape to express his gratefulness to his student but he knew this graciousness Potter was displaying could not go unnoticed. "You had every right to take whatever revenge you may have felt was appropriate and you did not. That manner of action is...beyond my reasoning. That's something your father would have never done."

Harry flinched at this but nodded and turned toward the door.

Harry did not seem eager to go out the door to the hallway. He turned back to Snape and asked, "Sir, do you think they'll let me go to Ron's funeral? I'd really like to be there." Something like fear flashed through his eyes and he said suddenly, "Unless, do you think the Weasleys wouldn't want me there? I wouldn't want to disturb them and they might not want to see me..."

Snape interrupted his rant, "From what I know of the Weasleys, they are a kind and loyal bunch," while those weren't the only adjectives he could use the describe the Weasleys, they would do for now. "They would not place blame where blame does not belong. However, I am unsure if you will be able to attend the funeral. You will have to ask the Headmaster."

Harry's head dropped at this, as if he already knew what Dumbledore would say.

Snape could understand that. He knew what Dumbledore would say as well.

With that, Potter opened the door to the cabin and walked into the hall, with Snape on his heels.

As Harry exited the train, he was surprised with the extreme juxtaposition he found himself in. While thoughts of Ron and the prophecy were still heavy on his mind, at the moment his greatest concern was how Snape would handle the Dursleys.

Snape was by his side, still scanning the area, almost seeming to be on top of him, "Potter, let's retrieve your trunk, then we'll find your awful relatives and get you inside those wards as quickly as possible." Snape was walking quickly but making sure Harry was beside him all the way.

"Um, Professor..."

Snape rolled his eyes at Harry's vocal stumbling, "Just out with it, Potter. I have no desire to hear you stammer on as usual."

Harry smarted at that. It seemed whatever uneasy truce they may have made on the train would not change Snape's acerbic personality. He braced himself while picking up his trunk and struggling with it, "It's just that, well, I don't know what you may have heard or maybe seen about my family, what with the Occlumency lessons and all and...er..."

They weren't even off Platform 9 3/4 and Snape was already slightly perturbed. Taking the trunk from Potter, he shrunk it and put it in his pocket. "There, now out with whatever you're attempting but failing miserably to say."

"Look, my relatives aren't as bad as they seem. I mean, to an outsider it'd probably look like I was being you know, abused...or something but I'm not, really."

Snape's dark eyes met Harry's vibrant green and he wondered if Potter realized what he was saying. How classically textbook what he was saying to the man was.

"Exactly what is abuse to you, Mr. Potter?"

"Well, you know like beating me to within an inch of my life or not letting me use their toilet or torturing me, things like that. They've never done anything like that, honestly."

Harry was beginning to grow nervous. He knew that this was his last summer with the Dursleys and it wasn't so much that he was afraid of it being too horrible. No, there were far worse things than being cuffed on the head or going a few days without food. The things the Dursleys could do to him didn't frighten him in the least.

But though he had not yet examined his new thoughts on the man before him, he did not want anyone in the Wizarding world to know what his childhood had been like. That was his struggle and it was almost over. It had never been too horrible. Harry knew from stories he had heard and occasional snippets of news he caught on the television when he was allowed near the living room that some kids had it really bad. No, compared to some, the Dursleys were saints. Besides, Snape was the only person that had ever treated him like he was normal. He may have been an utter bastard to him but he never got caught up in all that hero worship. He didn't think he could take it if Snape pitied him.

Snape had good intentions but he did not want the man to know what his home life was like. Occlumency lessons aside, he knew Snape had a very vague idea and wanted to keep it that way.

Snape looked his charge in the face for just another moment, before he remembered where they were and the danger they were still in. Glaring about the station, he took Potter's arm in his hand and spoke to him while walking, "And prey tell, Mr. Potter, what exactly did your relatives do to you that you're so sure was not abuse? They didn't beat you to within an inch of your life? Are you going to tell me that they've never laid a hand on you? Are you going to lie to me and tell me you received three square meals a day? Are you going to attempt to twist what I saw in your memories until I begin to believe you grew up in a wholesome, loving environment? Tell me, Mr. Potter."

Harry struggled to get his arm out from the Potions Master's grip, "Look, I know they're not good people, I'm not trying to say they are. They're mean and they're petty and I hate them. But it's not that bad, I mean there are people, there are things that are so much worse."

Worse? Was the boy happy simply because his relatives didn't violently beat him? Snape lifted an eyebrow and cursed Dumbledore. Harry was showing classic signs of an abuse victim, trying to cover up the abuse because he was so obviously embarrassed. "Mr. Potter, I don't suppose you realize exactly what you sound like right now," at Harry's bewildered gaze Snape continued, "you sound like a very typical abuse victim. And believe me, Potter, I should know. I'm the Head of Slytherin. Do you not think I have to keep my eyes open for signs of abuse in children?"

"No really, it's not abuse. I mean...if anything it's more like neglect."

Snape stopped right in the middle of a step and Harry almost collided with him. He turned to look at Harry next to him and gave him a discerning look.

He'd heard those words before, not twelve hours before, right after the Leaving Feast. Looking at Harry's face, he was trying to discern if the words were the boy's own or if he was parroting their well meaning Headmaster.

Finally understanding that the words were coming from Potter's own mind, Snape sighed, "No one deserves to be treated like that, Potter." Snape was dealing with too many of his own memories today. So many experiences he shared with this boy. He was glad, at least, that there were people around to break that silence that had been pervasive in the cabin. Companionable silence or not, the boy did not need any type of intensity right now.

Snape went first through the gateway and pulled Harry along with him. They were looking around for only a moment when a bellow sounded over all the other voices.

"Boy!" Harry heard his uncle before he saw him. Sure enough the large walrus-like man was waiting at the end of the platform with Dudley standing idly next to him.

"Hurry up, boy! I'll not have you flitting about with these freaks any longer than necessary," and with that Vernon roughly grabbed Harry's upper arm and began dragging him towards where his car was parked.

He had been in such a hurry to get away from the crowd that surrounded the station that he did not notice the tall, dark menacing man in the wizard's robes that had been standing very close to Harry, waiting for this very moment.

It was only Snape's iron will that kept him from cursing the man. Anyone who had eyes would see that the boy was upset to the point that it was effecting him physically. But as in the case of most child abusers, Snape thought, this man probably never saw past his own meaty fist.

Before Vernon could take two steps, Snape's hand went around Vernon's exceptionally large bicep.

"Vernon Dursley, I presume? I'm so pleased to make your acquaintance. You see, I've heard so much about you."

Vernon took one look at the Potions Master and bellowed, "Get your hands off me you, freak. I'll not have you lot threatening me like you did last year. If the boy is to stay at my house, he'll obey my rules."

"Unhand the boy," Snape pulled his wand from under his sleeve so it was visible only to Vernon and not to passersby. "I would say I'm surprised at your utter stupidity but that would be a lie. Unlike Potter, I am a fully trained, adult wizard and there is currently no restriction on when I can use magic. Or how." With that he uttered a stinging hex that hit Vernon's hand. He dropped Harry and recoiled.

Vernon grabbed his singed hand with the other and met Snape's glare, "Now see here, you..."

"No," he said in his most snide voice. "This is what's going to happen, Dursley. We are going to get in that incepted muggle contraption you call an automobile. We will drive to your home in Surrey where I will escort Mr. Potter directly to your place of residence. Once Potter is safely inside, and I mean safely, I will take my leave and not disturb you again. Is that understood or do I need to use smaller words? Or perhaps hand gestures?"

Vernon finally got a good look at the man he was up against. He might be much slimmer than Vernon but that grip had been enough to subdue the whale sized man. Plus, people were starting to take notice of him and it wouldn't do to be seen in such company.

"Fine, but hurry it up. And you'll leave quickly too, I wouldn't want the neighbors to see you."

Potter looked on the scene with a sense of disbelief. Perhaps he couldn't believe his Potions Master would defend him unless certain death was involved. That may have been true, but what Snape had seen of this man, he felt he had the justification of a little revenge.

For his own sake. If Potter's summer was a little less harsh on him, then that was just a plus that Snape hadn't considered.

Vernon waddled off as quickly as a man of his size could, the younger grapefruit on legs trailing behind him, giving Snape looks typical of a first year Hufflepuff.

"Potter, stay close to me. Do not assume that we are safe yet."

"Alright, Professor."

The two Dursleys settled into the front seat while Snape and Harry sat in the back, with Hedwig between them.

As they drove to Surrey, that same companionable silence that Snape couldn't explain seemed to settle between himself and the boy. He even caught Potter looking his way a few times, always with the same odd expression on his face that Snape couldn't place.

Driving around Little Whinging, Snape was reminded of how every house in Muggle cities looked exactly alike. He was amazed the daft fool could figure out which one he lived in.

Finally, the car pulled up to Number Four Privet Drive and the passengers disembarked.

Vernon rounded on Snape, "Alright, he's home. Now you get your freak self out of here however you freaks do it." The man had the nerve to put his finger in Snape's face.

Which was a very bad idea.

"It would be wise," Snape grabbed the fat finger that was so close to his nose and squeezed, "not to underestimate me, Dursley. I said I would see to it that Potter was safe. I am not yet convinced of that. Perhaps we should take this discussion inside before your neighbors witness it."

Sure enough, Petunia had been watching from the kitchen window. She opened the door and put on her most false looking smile, "Vernon, you're home. Come in, dinner's ready."

Harry carried Hedwig while Snape still had the shrunken truck hidden in his pocket. The four men went quickly inside where Petunia immediately rounded on Harry.

"What's this, bringing one of those freaks here? What if the neighbors had see you? You should know better, boy!" Petuna screeched at Harry who was standing with his shoulders so squared it looked as if he had a rod in his back.

Petunia had yet to really see Snape. All she had seen was a wizard in his robes but she had not looked on his face yet.

"Good evening, Petunia. How lovely it is to see you again, after all these years."

Petunia turned from Harry who was standing defiantly in the entryway to Snape whose words sounded kind but voice sounded like ice.

The horse-faced woman looked upon Snape and seemed to take him in. Looking him square in the face, whose sharp featured had changed little over the years, she recognized him quickly. "You! That awful boy."

"You know this man?" Vernon questioned her. Dudley seemed to flee from the room in terror, running up the stairs.

"Yes, I know him. He was that awful boy who used to play with Lily. That freak who contaminated her with his freakishness." Petunia seemed to recognize Snape the boy, but not Snape the man. She seemed to forget she was dealing with a fully trained adult wizard and not the child she knew.

"Yes, Petunia, that awful boy. How horrible it must have been to be the plain, boring muggle of a sister as beautiful and talented as Lily was. I see the spite and envy you nurtured as a child has served you well into adulthood."

Harry stood a few feet off from the confrontation, trying to understand what was going on in front of him. He remembered Aunt Petunia referring to 'that awful boy' last year but he thought she was referring to his father. He knew Snape had known Petunia, the man had just told him on the train. But hearing about it was one thing and seeing it was something completely different. The satisfaction that played across Snape's features was something Harry could understand. After all he had suffered at the hands of the Dursleys he had longed to vent his anger at them too.

"How dare you! Lily was a freak. She went to that freak school and married that good for nothing boy, Potter, and he got her killed. And we had the burden of raising her brat. You have no idea what it's been like, looking at Lily's mistakes and failures in the eyes all these years."

Something like murderous rage passed over Snape's face and both Petunia and Vernon took a step back. "Your sister was ten times the woman you could ever have hoped to have been. Her husband was a cruel, reckless bully but he died protecting her. And she died protecting him," Snape pointed at Harry. "Somehow I can't see you sacrificing even your good china for that small whale you call a son.

"It's because of her sacrifice that any of us are alive today. You know enough about what transpired sixteen years ago to not play the ignorant housewife, Petunia."

Petunia was quiet at that but her eyes were still cold as she looked Snape up and down.

"Now see here...er...," Vernon seemed to rally.

"Snape. His name is Severus Snape," Petunia's nose went into the air in what seemed like a practiced move. "His father was a drunk and his mother never left the house. His kind wouldn't be fit to mow our lawn, Vernon. He couldn't stand to be in his own home when he was a boy so he pestered Lily night and day. If it hadn't been for him contaminating her, she'd be alive today and we wouldn't have this burden."

"That's enough," Harry spoke up for the first time since he entered the house. Petunia didn't know what she was saying but her words were hitting too close to what the truth of the situation really was. Harry hadn't even begun to scratch the surface of his thoughts on what Snape had told him on the train, but something told the younger man that Snape didn't deserve Petunia's, of all people's, criticism.

"You don't know him at all. You just knew him as my mum's friend years ago. You don't know what's happened to him since then. You know nothing of his life or what he's had to go through," Harry said, his breath coming in pants.

Snape looked at Potter, shocked. No one besides Albus had ever defended him before. And even then, that was because of Snape's willingness and ability to be a spy. He had no idea where this defense Potter was mounting was coming from. Snape couldn't fathom it.

However, he could see that all the talk about his mother and father had upset him. With all the boy had been through in the last twelve hours, he couldn't blame him. Potter was pale and shaking and breathing too hard for a boy who was just standing in a hallway.

"Potter, perhaps you should sit down. Have something to eat. You've not eaten since the feast."

"Oh, no. With an outburst like that, there'll be no food for you tonight, boy," Vernon bellowed.

Snape turned from where he was facing Harry and almost seemed to growl, "Ah, we are finally back to the topic in which I came here to discuss," Snape sneered and showed his yellowed teeth. Again, Petunia and Vernon took an unconscious step back. Snape lined himself up so he was standing in front of Harry, acting as a shield once again.

"Your abuse and neglect of this boy will stop. This conversation should have been had years ago but no matter. Potter will be with you only this one summer more and then you never have to lay eyes on him again. But your denial of food, your forcing him to act as a servant and the physical abuse will stop."

Though Snape could not see him, Harry's eyes were opened wide. He didn't think Snape had seen that much in his Occlumency lessons.

"Wait just one moment, you. I won't have a freak telling me how to run my own household..." Vernon stopped as Snape took his wand out from his sleeve, this time fully so all could see it.

"Understand this Dursley," Snape whispered only loud enough for them to barely hear, "myself and other people guarding Potter are going to be watching you. We'll be observing your behavior with regards to your nephew. And if we do not like what we see, I will not hesitate to come back here and do something to you that will leave marks."

Petunia was at her husband's side, frightened and looking at Snape as if he were the devil himself.

"Do you understand? Or shall I bring out the hand puppets?"

"Ye...er, um, yes," Vernon said, struggling for breath.

"Good. Potter, show me to your room. I'll unshrink your trunk."

Harry seemed to snap out of the bewildered daze he had been in and started to head towards the stairway. As they passed the living room, Snape noticed a small cupboard under the stairs that seemed very familiar to him.

Walking past his old cupboard, Harry couldn't fathom what Snape had just done. It made no sense to him. His life was obviously not in danger, Harry had said so. Snape had even made good work out of putting Aunt Petunia in her place so why had he defended him?

Harry seemed to fly up the stairs while Snape's robes billowed about him, making it seem as though he was floating. As they walked the hallway, Snape noticed the master bedroom as well as a room where lots of irritating bells and whistles seemed to be coming from, which he could only guess belonged to the small sea mammal.

And then Potter approached a door that had locks that bolted from the outside and a cat flap on the door.

Potter opened the door and stepped inside, opening his owl's cage and then the window so she could fly out. "Go ahead, girl," he stroked the owl's feathers before she took flight.

Snape took in his surroundings. The cot-like bed. The broken toys that were scattered around the room and the shoddy looking desk and shelf. If it wasn't for the picture of the snowy owl and Gryffindor banner, he wouldn't have guessed this could be Potter's room.

But again, he shouldn't have been so surprised, really.

Once again, Snape marveled at how Dumbledore could send Potter back here year after year. What must it have been like to grow up in a place like this?

Not wanting to embarrass the boy any further, Snape pulled out the trunk and laid it in the center of the room, waving his wand and muttering the charm that would enlarge it.

Potter sat down on his bed and looked at the floor, then Snape. "Thank you, sir. For that, I mean," he gestured downstairs.

"That was for my own benefit more than yours, Potter, I assure you." If he had taken some satisfaction in humbling Lily's awful sister that was really just a bonus. At least Potter wouldn't be in danger from his own family for the summer.

"Right. Well, still. Thank you, sir." Potter's green eyes seemed to glow in the dark, with the light of the street lamp outside the only thing illuminating the room.

"You're welcome. I'll see you in September, Potter." With that, Snape turned to leave the room. Something seemed to slow his steps, then he stopped and turned around.

"Potter..." Snape paused when the boy looked up at him. What had he been about to say? The boy's best friend was dead and he had to spend the next two months with his horrible muggle relatives. What could he possibly say that would help the boy at all? What good were the value of words at times like this?

"I know it seems impossible now...but you will survive this."

Harry knew he didn't mean the war against Voldemort. Snape knew things about him now that no one else knew.

"Thank you, sir," Harry whispered, his voice strained and his body shaking.

There was a knock on the door. Petunia entered with a plate of roast beef. She walked silently by Snape and handed the plate to Harry a bit harshly. Snape nodded to her and put on his most frightening smile, "It was lovely to see you again, Petunia. I'll show myself out."

And with that the Potions Master walked down the stairs, out of the house and past the wards. He couldn't help but notice how cloudy the sky was, with not a star visible. Somehow, it seemed fitting. Glad to be rid of the place, he walked to a nearby alley and apparated to Hogwarts. He needed to speak with the Headmaster.


	4. It's Hard but it's Harder to Ignore It

Disclaimer: These characters are not mine.

A/N: Many thanks to Laurenke1 for the wonderful beta job and for catching a plot hole. I so hate plot holes. Also, I've noticed that aside from the US, Germany seems to be the top country who's reading this story. So, Hallo. Vie geht es ihnen? I took one year of German in school and I think that's about the extent of what I recall. Thank you for all who reviewed. You make my day.

Harry sat on his bed after Snape left with all the events of the day replaying in his head. Coming home to Privet Drive was nothing like he thought it would be. Somehow it was so much worse but so much better all at the same time.

The roast beef his aunt had left him felt like lead in his stomach, but he ate it knowing that Snape had been right. As much as it pained him to admit it, the events of the day had drained him and he needed the nourishment.

It was night and his relatives were all in their respective rooms. Hedwig had returned from her evening hunt and she sat in her cage, lightly slumbering.

He opened his trunk and pulled out a quill and parchment. He needed to ask the Headmaster about attending Ron's funeral. Holding back the tears that wanted to come for just a few more minutes was not the most difficult task.

Taking quill to parchment he wrote:

_Dear Headmaster,_

_I realize it might not be safe, but I want to attend Ron's funeral. I want to be with the Weasleys and Hermione when they say goodbye. I'm willing to take the risk of being there, sir. Please let me know when and where it will be._

_Sincerely,_

_Harry_

Harry walked over to Hedwig's cage and woke her up. "I have a letter for you, girl. Don't come back until you have a reply. You can peck his fingers if you need to." With a soft hoot, Hedwig left the cage and flew out of the window.

That task being done with, Harry turned to his tiny cot with trepidation. Only last night he had been in his four poster bed at Hogwarts thinking about how this stay with his relatives would only be bearable because Ron would be there at the end of it. Now Ron was gone and he was alone.

Except that Harry didn't feel completely alone.

Not wanting to examine that feeling just yet, he kicked off his trainers and pants and laid down on his bed. As he laid his head down on his pillow, he fully expected that familiar dead weight to settle on his chest and take the breath out of him. But that feeling that had been torturing him all year didn't come.

Harry almost felt guilty.

Instead, he turned his thoughts to Ron and fully expected to feel that sense of pain and regret the way he did when he thought of Sirius. But thinking of Ron didn't bring him that guilty feeling he was used to. It brought something he had never felt before.

He closed his eyes and thought of his friend. He thought about meeting him on the Hogwarts Express. How they had been rude to Hermione at first but had saved her from that troll thus cementing their friendship. He thought about how he had chosen Ron over Malfoy and how glad he was that he did that.

Harry smiled when he thought of that. And with that smile came a small laugh and then tears. As his laugh subsided, the tears continued to roll down his face. Rather than try to stop them like he had been doing all day, he allowed them to come.

Harry was crying. Not tears of frustration and rage like he had cried in front of the Potions Master earlier. Tears of sadness and mourning. He missed his friend.

His thoughts turned to Ron again. This time about how they had sneaked into the Slytherin common room together and gone into the Chamber of Secrets. Ron had always been with him on all his adventures.

Harry smiled again as he thought of Ron as new tears trailed down his face. He thought briefly about third year and how they had discovered the truth about Sirius together. He thought about how they had fought in fourth year and felt a pang of regret. But this time it wasn't the kind that took the breath from his lungs. He simply wished he had not wasted any time he might have had with his friend.

Tears streaming down his face, he thought of Ron. How he'd never be able to do all the things he wanted to do. How his life was cut short by Voldemort. That he was just another victim in the long list of people killed in this war. He was so angry.

He turned onto his stomach, clenched his fists and sobbed into his pillow. His best friend was dead. Hermione would never be the same. If he was feeling pain like this, he could only imagine how she felt. He knew that she had loved him and he had loved her without either of them ever having to say so. He had never said a thing about it because he thought, as they did, that they had time.

That thought brought a fresh sob to Harry's chest. Quietly, he wept for his friend.

He cried freely for what felt like hours. He missed Ron so much already. He knew he would miss him all his life. They would have been friends for life, he knew. And Lucius Malfoy would suffer for taking that away from him, from Ron.

And to think the man had been aiming for Snape.

Snape.

He had no idea how he felt towards the Potions Master at the moment. When Snape had revealed that it was he who had told Voldemort the prophecy, Harry thought he would murder the man. It was only curiosity and the fact that Snape had just defended him with his life that kept him from strangling the man with his bare hands.

But he had listened. The entire time Snape was talking about what he had done and how much he had regretted it and how it had hurt him because he had gotten his best friend killed, Harry thought he could have been talking about himself.

No, not just his friend. His only friend. She was his only friend, he had said. The only friend who had accepted him for what, or who, he was. Harry frowned at that. What had Snape meant by that?

Harry rolled over onto his side and thought about the Potions Master. He knew that he should've been angry. He knew he had every right to blame Snape, to hate the man with a passion. He knew Snape wouldn't blame him if he did. And he would have hated him if he had only found out about this a day earlier. Hating Snape would make sense. That's something a normal person would do.

But Harry had never been normal. And as he listened to Snape talk about his pain and regret, he knew he could never hate the man again. Not when he was so like himself.

But even more surprising was the fact that Snape hadn't lied to him. When Harry asked about the prophecy, he was surprised to hear Snape's confession but he was even more surprised that he had confessed.

Harry had been receiving half truths and outright lies for years from everyone he knew. But at the first question he had posed to the man, he told the truth when he could have lied. _Merlin, _Harry thought_, he should have lied. I don't know if I would have been brave enough to tell me the truth._

The man was a master spy. His entire life was about the masterful weaving of lies with the truth. And what an ugly truth. Snape had said it was the biggest mistake of his life and Harry already knew the second. But he told him anyway.

Harry couldn't help but feel so grateful for that.

Snape knew all about the pain of regret. How could Harry add to the man's burdens? How could he when he knew what it was like? He'd have to be made of stone or something.

That was the reason why the man risked his life to be in Voldemort's court. It was why he risked his life to save Harry today. Not revenge, he had said, but to save own soul.

And like Harry, he knew what the cold hand of Fate had felt like. Harry knew too much about that as well. He had felt it for this last year. How horrible to have been feeling it for sixteen?

No, Harry couldn't hate the Potions Master. When he looked at him on the train and in the car, he had never felt closer to anyone. That thought was so incredibly different than the thoughts he had of this man even twenty four hours ago. The extreme nature of the changes that had happened today baffled Harry.

That alone proved that Harry had gone around the bend. But it was true. When Snape had left Privet Drive, it almost felt like he had lost a friend. Harry marveled at that thought as well as the realization that for the first time since he learned he had a godfather, he did not feel alone.

He wanted to think that he had more in common with his friends or with Sirius. But he couldn't lie to himself. No one else knew what it was like to have your destiny shaped by things that were beyond your control. Snape said he had felt the cold hand of Fate that night he had revealed the prophecy. Harry believed him. There are some things that are impossible to misinterpret.

With thoughts of the Potions Master on his mind, Harry fell into an exhausted sleep.

Hp

Severus Snape made the journey up to the Headmaster's office slowly. Thoughts of Lily and Harry were heavy on his mind. Circumstances and events that he had not thought of in years were suddenly brought to the forefront of his thoughts. He still could not wrap his mind around what had happened today.

Not the events on the loading platform. He had long been expecting to be discovered as a spy. He knew his life was forfeit the moment he saw Harry Potter reappear in that maze telling his story of how the Dark Lord was back. No, that had not surprised him in the least.

But what happened afterward had shocked him to his very core.

Lily had been his friend and he had loved her. They may have been friends when they were younger but he had fully expected her to abandon him once they got to Hogwarts. Who would want to be friends with a pale, skinny, greasy haired book worm like himself? Especially when she was so popular and so beautiful.

But she had been his friend. She hadn't abandoned him when he was sorted into Slytherin. Nor had she abandoned him when all the other Gryffindors targeted him for their pranks. And to his utmost surprise, she had not abandoned him when she found out that he was gay.

If his mistakes with Lily were the choices he regretted most in life, then his next biggest regret was misinterpreting Lucius Malfoy's interest in him in his second year. Looking back on it, he knew how foolish he was. At the time Malfoy was one of the most popular students in school. He was handsome and wealthy and it was well known that no matter what he did in life he would likely stay that way. Snape was a fool to misread the attention Lucius gave him.

In his youthful ignorance he believed for a moment that someone other than Lily could see past his awkwardness and hideous features. He failed to understand that Malfoy had been making connections and putting talented people in his pocket for all his seven years at Hogwarts. Snape was simply Lucius' attempt at acquiring someone who would be very useful in potions later on in life.

Lucius always did like to be prepared.

Nevertheless, Snape did misread Malfoy's intentions, the result of which were witnessed one night by a Gryffindor student that happened to walk into the potions classroom just as Snape had built up the incredible courage to actually kiss Lucius Malfoy on the cheek. The results of this were a look of disgust from Lucius and the entire school knowing about his homosexuality. He had never been popular before but at least he hadn't been tormented by his own house. Aside from the Marauders, the only people who seemed to care about his being gay were the mostly pureblood students from Slytherin. Lucius himself seemed to rather forget about the entire thing. He had already invested enough time in Snape that he didn't want to lose a person who he viewed as someone it would be in his advantage to know in the future.

While he didn't enjoy being ostracized, what he really cared about was what Lily would think. To him, that alone would have been enough to destroy their friendship. But Lily wasn't as prejudiced as some of the rest of the Wizarding World. She just laughed and said only purebloods cared about whether someone was gay or not and kissed him on his cheek. He had been so relieved. It was difficult enough being the only homosexual in Slytherin house. It was only his status as a half blood and the fact that he earned his house points from his grades in classes that kept him from being throttled at every turn.

But Lily had not forgiven him for everything. Really, he couldn't blame her. It wasn't calling her a mudblood that put the final nail in the coffin of their friendship.

No, his friendship with Lily ended with him refusing to disavow the beliefs of the Dark Lord. It was embracing the Death Eaters that had pushed her away. He understood her motives then, he was no fool. Even now, he could not think a bad thought about her. She had shown him too much kindness that had never been shown to him before or after her. At the time he couldn't see that the prejudice he had toward muggleborns was the same as some wizards' prejudice towards him. It wasn't until much later that he had fully understood what an idiot he had been.

He was eternally indebted to Lily Potter. As he was to her son, first through her and now for his own reasons.

Snape was convinced that even beautiful and forgiving Lily would not have been able to see past his treachery towards her. But Potter had listened and accepted it and even _thanked_ Snape for telling him.

Really, what kind of game was Potter playing?

But Snape knew it was no game. He could see straight through the boy if he wanted to and he knew Potter held him no ill will after his confession.

He simply couldn't understand that kind of forgiveness. Merlin knew he didn't deserve it. But it did change his opinion of the boy. There was less of his father in him than he thought. Or perhaps the whole was greater than the sum of its parts.

All Snape knew was that he hated leaving Potter in that house. He didn't want him to have to stay and suffer mourning his friend with those...people. He should be here at Hogwarts where Snape could keep an eye on him.

With these thoughts on his mind, he muttered the absurd password and rode the stairway up to the Headmaster's office.

The door opened for him, revealing a much more upset looking Headmaster than he had seen in this room earlier today.

Snape took in the room. Fawkes was covered in ash and chirping, tiny and featherless again. He looked over at the desk and saw a haphazard pile of paper and that same chessboard from this morning.

The King's Pawn had been cut down.

Snape's teeth clenched. So a child had been assigned his own role in Dumbledore's little game, he thought. He wondered what Harry would think of that.

"Severus, excellent," Dumbledore finally noticed him, the man had been lost in thought. "How is Harry? You managed to get him safely to the Dursley's?"

Snape took in the frantic pacing of the Headmaster and calmed himself. He took his usual seat in front of the desk. "Yes, Albus. I deposited Potter in his dreadful relative's house as you requested. I must say it was absolutely delightful seeing Petunia again after so long. I believe you have corresponded?" Snape lifted an eyebrow.

"Oh, yes, we've spoken. You wouldn't believe how hard she fought when I asked her to take Harry. I knew that Petunia had been a jealous child but I never thought it would extend to her sister's only son. How wrong I was," Dumbledore seemed to be speaking to the wall or some far off figure, not Snape.

"Yet you continue to send him there, knowing what it's like for him," Snape leaned forward in a very uncharacteristic way and put his head in his hands. "You're going to have to answer for that someday, Albus."

The Headmaster's chuckle seemed darker than usual. "You are not telling me anything I don't already know, Severus. You're not the only one with regrets, my boy. But this is something that could not have been avoided. There was no choice in the matter, but the decision was mine to make. I pray someday Harry can understand that."

"Speaking of regrets, Albus, there's something you should know," Snape paused while the Headmaster turned his head to face him. "I told Potter about the prophecy." When Dumbledore's eyebrows lifted and his face looked confused, Snape clarified, "I told him I was the one who told the Dark Lord the prophecy."

Albus' eyes widened and he made to circle his desk and sat down in his chair. He looked so much older than his years at that moment. "Why?" was the only thing he said.

"Because he asked. Because he deserved to know. Because I had planned on telling him someday anyway," Snape answered simply.

"How did he take it?"

"Surprisingly well. I don't understand it, really. He was angry at first, as you would expect. He asked me questions, which I answered. I told him the truth about everything. I did not leave anything out. I told him how Lily was my friend. I told him how much I regretted my actions and how I've done everything in my power to make amends, though I know amends can never be made. Potter just seemed to...accept it. I didn't try to cover it up or ask his forgiveness. He just seemed to...give it. It's beyond me, Albus." Snape still sat with his head in his hands as he spoke to the Headmaster.

For the first time since he walked into the room, the Headmaster smiled. "Yes, Harry does have the greatest capacity for love, as I've said before."

Snape stood up straight at that, "Love? Trust me, Headmaster there is no love lost between your brat and myself..."

Dumbledore put up a hand to stop the impromptu rant that he really had no patience for at the moment, "No, perhaps not between you. But love is a very powerful force. It changes who we are and who we will become. Harry has a great amount of love inside him and it shapes his decisions, the way he interacts with people. I'm not surprised in the least that he would forgive you. After all you've done, after all this time, Severus, you deserve to be forgiven. Harry's the only one who can give you that."

Severus wanted to argue with the Headmaster but an awful pain over took his left arm and he had to bite his lip to keep from crying out. How ironic. The past mistake that he had just been discussing was currently trying to burn his arm off.

The Headmaster sat up immediately, "He's summoning you?"

Snape stood up quickly, knocking down his chair, "Yes, I must go."

"Severus, you can't be serious. After what happened today..."

"I'm not entirely sure what happened today. The fact that I was not informed of the attack is not a good sign but the Dark Lord must have known that I would be assigned on that guard," Snape stood up, ignoring the blinding pain in his left arm, "I have to be sure, Albus. We cannot afford to lose our only spy in the Order. There's still a chance I can save my position."

"Severus, stop!" the Headmaster raised his voice and Snape was reminded that this man had defeated Grindelwald. "Listen to me," Dumbledore leaned over his desk and looked Snape directly in the eye. "You've done enough, Severus. You've spied long enough and saved enough people to finally have some peace, child. Voldemort drew a line in the sand today and you made your choice. Please, Severus, Lily wouldn't have wanted this. You've done enough, don't send yourself off to certain death."

Snape stood up straight and answered the Headmaster's stare, "This is my decision, Albus, not yours. If I lose my position as a spy not only is my life forfeit, but my usefulness to the Order as well. I'll not be let out to pasture or locked away in a house somewhere like you did with the mutt. I have to know," and with that Snape swept out of the office and walked down the stairs.

Before the stairway closed he heard Albus say, "He's already forgiven you, Severus. When will you stop all this and forgive yourself?"

Hp

Harry Potter was enjoying his first dream in what felt like years. He and Ron were playing Quidditch and they were both chasing the snitch. The grass below him was green and the sky above him was clear and stretched on forever. Harry could feel the wind on his face and he could hear Ron laughing as they caught the snitch over and over again.

Then suddenly, the dream grew dark. The scene changed from the Quidditch pitch to a large room with a familiar looking dais. He was sitting on a large throne in the center of the room and he was surrounded by figures all dressed in black. The room was very plain and had the feel of disuse, like there was dust in the air. He could barely make out a dusty chandelier attached to the ceiling. The dirt on the floors could not hide the fact that they were marble. There were torches on the wall that were giving off the only light.

Harry's eyes were focused on a lone figure in the center of the circle. Harry had a difficult time making out what it was. It was moving around slowly and was making the most awful noises. It slowly dawned on Harry that it was a man. As soon as he realized this he knew who it was. His suspicions were confirmed when the robes covering the man's face fell away revealing the pale, drawn features of Severus Snape.

"Severus," Harry could hear Voldemort speaking, "you continue to spin your lies for that old fool. You think yourself so very intelligent, don't you? What exactly do you take me for? Tell me, Severus, why have you betrayed me? _Crucio_!"

Snape writhed in pain on the floor from what Harry knew was not his first treatment of the unforgivable from Voldemort.

Panting and gasping for air as Voldemort broke the curse, Snape struggled to say, "My Lord, I would never dream of betraying you. Dumbledore ordered me to protect Potter. He has eyes and ears all over Hogsmeade. I could not afford to expose myself. I'm the only one who courts Dumbledore's favor. I did not even consider giving up my position."

"Come now, Severus," Voldemort seemed to speak Snape's name in parseltongue, "you can do better than that. Your lying is legendary to me now, your betrayal epic. Tell me, Severus, why should I allow you to live?"

Snape gasped and he tried to bring himself up to kneel, "My Lord, please. Defending Potter has put me in the best position to spy on Dumbledore. Even as you summoned me, I was meeting with the old fool. We were discussing his plans for the boy."

Voldemort seemed to pause at this. Perhaps he wasn't so willing to give up his prized spy. "That's not enough, Severus. The information you've given me lately has been uncertain at best and false at its worse. Tell me, Severus really, whose man are you? _Crucio_."

Snape's body contorted in ways Harry had never seen before. His lips were bleeding as he bit down, trying to keep himself from crying out. Harry wanted to look away but could not. He didn't control the body that was witnessing this.

Snape panted as the curse was lifted. His entire body was shaking and his voice broke, "My Lord, I serve only you. Potter, my Lord, I made great headway with Potter today. I saved his life, my Lord. He had never trusted me before. He hated me but today I believe I made him trust me."

One of the smaller figures draped in black took one hesitant step forward and said in a trembling voice, "Master, it's true. Potter's always hated Snape. Their hatred for each other is legendary at the school. But I saw Snape protect Potter with my own eyes, I saw them as they got on the train..."

Before the small man could get the last word out, a taller man with long silvery hair stepped forward and pulled him back, "Draco, be quiet. Our Lord does not wish to hear about this filth."

"No, Lucius, Draco is right. I have many eyes and ears within the school. I've often heard of the hatred between Snape and Potter myself. If our Severus has created a bond with Potter then why not exploit it?"

Lucius bowed his head and said, "My Lord is wise in all things," and took a step back with Draco to join the circle surrounding Snape.

"My Severus, I've long thought you were too intelligent for your own good. All those plans within plans, playing both sides. I've so hated questioning your loyalty but perhaps you could still be of use after all. Do you believe you can get Potter to trust you?"

Snape was gasping for air and struggling just to sit up, "My Lord, I am sure of it. Potter is at the lowest point in his life. His best friend was just murdered and I was the only one there to help him. I can become close to him, my Lord."

Harry felt Voldemort's face contort as he sneered, "Yes, I can imagine what...men like you would do to, how did you put it... get close to the boy."

The Death Eaters surrounding him all laughed but Harry didn't understand why.

Snape seemed to lower his eyes to the floor.

"Look at me, Snape."

Snape's black eyes met Voldemort's. Harry could feel the pull of Voldemort's mind and knew what it was in that moment to be a master Legilimens. Harry held his breath and hoped that the man's mental defenses would hold. Not only did Voldemort still not know all the details of the prophecy, if he saw Snape's raw guilt from the man's own point of view, there would be no way the Potions Master could deny it. The conversation in the cabin of the Hogwarts Express alone would reveal Snape's true allegiances.

He saw Snape's memories go by in a flash. He saw Snape and himself dodging curses from Malfoy. He saw them on the train as Snape was telling Harry that whatever he expressed in the cabin would remain between them. He saw himself screaming and crying at Snape while the man remained silent. He saw himself and Snape sitting together with a feeling of companionship. Then the memories cut off as Voldemort extracted himself from Snape's mind. Harry breathed a mental sigh of relief.

Voldemort was silent on his throne, considering what he had just seen. "You have no idea the plans that were ruined today, Severus. As you should know by now, I cannot afford to tell all my secrets to the man who lives in Dumbledore's pocket." Voldemort watched as Snape was struggling to remain kneeling in front of him. "When you saw my Death Eaters attacking, it should have been your first instinct to know that there were plans in place that I had seen fit to keep from you," Voldemort stood up and walked off his throne. He stood directly in front of Snape and took a cold, scaly finger and put it under Snape's chin.

Harry was astounded that he didn't feel Snape shudder.

"By siding with the Order, whatever your intentions were, you went directly against my plans. You do see this, don't you, my Severus?"

Snape seemed unnaturally calm for a man who had just undergone torture at the hand of the man standing in front of him. "I am sorry, my Lord. I thought only to protect my position. It is how I am best able to serve you."

"Yes, you've been a very good spy to me over the years. Your servitude should not go unrewarded."

Voldemort seemed to pause and consider the trembling man in front of him for a moment. "Very well, Severus. I believe you are still loyal to me. You are to remain at your post at Hogwarts and try to attain Potter's trust."

"Thank you, my Lord. I will not fail you," Snape gasped.

Voldemort turned his head from Snape and addressed one of the crowd. "Lucius?"

The blond man stepped forward and bowed, "Yes, my Lord?"

"You were the one to kill the blood traitor?"

Lucius was cold and cruel as he said, "Yes, my Lord, that pleasure was mine."

"Very well," Voldemort released Snape's head and went to return to his throne. "Our Severus is a teacher. A teacher really only needs his mind and his tongue to teach. You may do what you will with the rest of him."

The last thing Harry saw as the Death Eaters descended upon Snape was Malfoy's malicious smile as he drew his wand.


	5. A Million Faces at my Feet

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. I'm just airing them out a bit.

Warnings: There is some torture in this chapter. There's nothing that's too graphic but if the mere mention of blood disturbs you then it would be best for you to skip this chapter or at least the second break in the story.

A/N: While this is AU after book 5, it's safe to assume that any magic Harry may have learned in his 6th year applies to this story. Also, this story will be dealing with themes like Fate v. Free will or choice, which is a very strange topic for me. As the characters struggle, I'd like to hear your opinions on it, whether you like where the story is going or not. Please review and let me know what you think.

Hp

"A million faces at my feet but all I see are dark eyes" -- Bob Dylan

Harry Potter awoke with a start, scrambling to get the covers off from around his legs without falling out of bed.

Snape was being tortured. Malfoy was going to kill him. No, even worse. He was going to play with him until there was hardly anything left. Harry had seen the state the man was in and knew that Voldemort had must have taken his wand. And the man could hardly stand, there was no way he could physically defend himself.

Alright, Harry thought, still scrambling to get up. First, he needed to figure out where the professor was. The room in the vision had been familiar. There had been a chandelier and he knew that if the floors had been polished he could have seen his reflection.

Malfoy Manor wouldn't be in that state of disrepair. Narcissa Malfoy still lived there and she'd rather die than have her house fall to shambles. If any of the other Death Eaters had grand manor homes, they wouldn't be falling apart either. The only other place they could be gripped Harry's senses like a vice... Riddle Manor.

Steeling himself to go back to that place he so often revisited in nightmares, Harry pulled on some pants and struggled into his trainers. He grabbed his wand and readied himself to apparate when suddenly a thought occurred to him.

Wait.

Oh...Gods, how he could he be so stupid?! What if Voldemort was planting another vision in his mind, this time with Snape? He could almost hear Hermione's voice telling him to be cautious. Harry was still an absolutely horrible Occlumens and after the day he had experienced, he knew that he was not in a clear state of mind.

Malfoy would have told Voldemort that Snape had saved his life. Voldemort knowing Harry's 'saving people thing,' knew he'd run off to try to rescue someone who didn't need to be rescued.

Again.

Alright. No rushing in head first this time, Harry thought. He needed to think this through. He had tried to make sure that what he was seeing was true last time. But last time he had almost wanted it to be true. He was so sure that Sirius was in grave danger that he believed the words of a disgruntled and barely sane house elf with a grudge. He needed a better source this time.

So where did that leave him?

Dumbledore. He could trust the Headmaster in this at least. A man's life was at stake. He would know if Snape had attended a Death Easter meeting or if he was still within the castle wards.

Wait. Did Snape even return to Hogwarts after he had left Privet Drive? Did he live at Hogwarts during the break? Maybe he had gone to his own home now that the students were gone. The man could be anywhere. Harry growled in frustration. There was nothing he could do but contact the Headmaster and hope he knew Snape's whereabouts.

Hedwig was still on her errand and there was no way to phone so that left...

Mrs. Figg.

All of Harry's inner thoughts took only a moment. He was at his door when he belatedly remembered to pull out his invisibility cloak. If Snape were in trouble...

He had to get to Mrs. Figg's house. It was the only way to know for certain. Harry would not rush off again to meet Voldemort and force other people to rescue him if this was a trap.

Harry was even more grateful to Snape when his door opened for him, revealing that the Dursleys had not locked him in that night. He wouldn't have to use magic to get out. He took the stairs three at a time and threw open the front door, running like the devil was chasing him to Mrs. Figg's house.

He banged on the door violently with his fist calling out over and over for Mrs. Figg. Finally a light went on and the squib opened the door slightly to see who was disturbing her in the middle of the night.

"Harry? My God, boy, what's happened?" she opened her door completely noticing immediately how flushed and out of breath the boy before her looked.

"Let me in, please, Mrs. Figg, I need to use your floo. Something's happening."

Immediately she let Harry in and he rushed to the fireplace in her living room.

With the fire already lit, she went to the mantle and held out a small container that contained floo powder. Harry took some in his hands and tossing it in the fireplace, cried out, "Headmaster's office, Hogwarts!"

Kneeling down into the floo, Harry began to cry out for the Headmaster. A moment later, Dumbledore appeared in what seemed to be a purple dressing robe with stars shooting across the hem. Noticing Harry, his face became stern and he walked quickly to his fireplace.

"Harry? What's happened? Are you alright?"

"Headmaster, do you know where Professor Snape is? Did he return to Hogwarts? Is he there?"

Dumbledore's eyes darkened and his face went pale. "No, Harry. He was here but I'm afraid he had to run an errand."

Oh, Gods.

It was all real then. Harry had been witness to Snape's torture. He really had seen the man on his knees before Voldemort. Somehow Harry wished that he hadn't seen that. Just like he didn't want Snape to be witness to his relatives' behavior, he knew Snape wouldn't want Harry to see him being tortured and humiliated. In Harry's mind though, the man just became all that more human.

In that moment, while on his knees in Mrs. Figg's house talking to the man who had so long influenced his life, something that felt like a lifting of a fog that he didn't even know was there occurred. He had heard about epiphanies. The rare moments in a person's life where time seemed to slow down and everything around them seemed to become clear.

Harry saw everything very plainly in that moment. It all just seemed to flow together perfectly. He could see himself in the Headmaster's eyes. Every trial that he'd gone through, every time he'd rushed blindly into danger, hoping that things would just work out came to him. Every time he knew the Headmaster covered up his adventures was brought to the forefront of his mind.

Harry knew from the Headmaster that Voldemort had been meeting with his Death Eaters many times all year but he had never bore witness to any of them. How many times must Voldemort have cast the Cruciatus curse on people just for entertainment value? How many people must he have killed in secret that Harry had not once seen because the evil bastard was occluding his mind towards him?

Why had he seen just this one vision?

And in a split second, so many things about Harry's life seemed to make sense.

Learning the Patronus Charm at thirteen, competing in a magical competition when he was three years too young, facing off with fully trained Death Eaters...

All of it was leading up to Voldemort, he knew. But that didn't mean it wasn't leading up to this first.

Why this vision? Why did he witness this specific torture when Voldemort clearly didn't want him to? Why this night, of all nights, right after his best friend died and his most hated teacher had bared his soul to him?

Severus Snape had saved his life today. It was Fate that Harry return the favor. It was Fate that he saw this meeting, this torture, of all the possible meetings he could have seen.

_If only, if only, if only, if only. But a man can only question himself so many times before he has to take action._

He knew that regardless of Voldemort's orders, Snape would either die that night or lose his mind. There was no way a megalomanic like Lucius Malfoy and a complete psychopath like Bellatrix Lestrange wouldn't take every advantage Voldemort had given them. Harry had heard the jeers and taunts of both of them towards Snape yesterday on the platform. If he left Snape there at the manor, there'd be nothing left to save.

Harry's eyes went wide in the floo and his mouth opened in an audible exhale of a breath he wasn't aware he had been holding. Suddenly it became crystal clear what he was meant to do.

Only seconds had passed but Dumbledore knew something important had just happened. He'd been witness to enough moments of truth like this in his life to know that something had changed. The insecure child that had been in his floo a moment ago was gone. Harry had always been brave and though he had sanctioned his adventures, he knew the boy was also reckless, rushing head first into danger like his godfather.

But in a moment something had changed in Harry's eyes. The frantic fear that had been there was replaced with a look of understanding and acceptance. Dumbledore knew in that moment what Harry meant to do.

"He's at Riddle Manor. They're going to kill him," Harry said mechanically. "I'm going after him. Call the Order but don't go in unless I give a signal. I'm going to try for a side along apparition with my invisibility cloak."

Dumbledore knew that it was useless to protest, but still he tried, "Harry, let the Order handle this..."

"There's no time. I'll find a way to let you know if I need help."

"Harry, one thing."

He stopped himself from leaving the floo to listen. "When you remove Severus from Riddle Manor, apparate to the outskirts of Hogsmeade. I'll have someone waiting for you there with a portkey to the infirmary. It will be someone you trust."

Harry nodded and reassured the Professor that he would call for help if he needed it. But they both knew that if he was discovered, there was no way he'd have time to give an alarm.

Harry knew where Riddle Manor was instinctively. The location of the graveyard of the Riddle family was etched into his mind. Standing up from the fireplace, he threw his invisibility cloak over his head, grabbed his wand and apparated.

Hp

Severus Snape was vaguely aware of his surroundings as Lucius Malfoy approached him, drawing his wand. He heard a very faint whisper, "Father, no."

He was mildly amused that Draco would dare stand up to his father on his behalf. He may have even been grateful for a moment if he thought Draco's sentiment would benefit him in any way. The idea that his obnoxious student would suddenly grow a backbone was laughable. He already knew the outcome of the halfhearted plea.

"Enough, Draco," Lucius whispered but his voice was stern, "I've allowed this twisted perversion of yours to go on long enough. Whatever idea you have regarding this," Lucius looked down on Snape with a twisted face, "... man, you will end it now. You will not shame our family in front of the Dark Lord!"

As Snape predicted, Draco immediately backed off, his head down and his eyes shamed. Apparently Draco had been taught the pureblood's method of looking at homosexuality. It was a shame that Lucius was doing this to his own son but Snape didn't really have room to pity spineless heirs to grand fortunes at the moment.

Snape chanced a glance around him. The Dark Lord was perched on his throne, surveying the scene the way a general would view his armies about to descend upon a small village filled with women and children and puppies. Victory was nigh.

His view of the Dark Lord was cut off as the Death Eaters surrounded him, faces leering at him maliciously. He knew that for many of them this had been a long time in coming. There were people that had viewed him suspiciously since he had failed to respond to the Dark Lord's summons in the graveyard two years ago.

Of course, people like Bellatrix hated him because he had escaped justice at the hands of the Aurors and hid himself in Dumbledore's refuge while she gladly went to Azkaban to suffer in the name of her Lord.

Lucius simply loathed him. He hated that he was the one who had first seen the inherent talent in Snape for what it was. He hated that he had introduced Snape to the Dark Lord where he was immediately recognized for his great potions talent. He hated that there was a time when no one courted the favor of the Dark Lord the way Snape did. He hated that Snape had a valuable position as a spy while Lucius had to remain hidden away like the fugitive he was.

Snape could understand this. He could almost respect it. He was, after all, the better man.

"Dear, Severus," Malfoy looked down his nose at him, "so it's finally come to this. Despite what you may think, old friend, this brings no joy to my heart. You've always been such a dear friend; always looking out for Draco. For Merlin's sake, we knew each other when we were boys...

"If it meets with your approval, Lucius," Snape paused to spit blood out of his mouth, "I'd rather not take a walk down memory lane with you. It's littered with too many corpses of greater men than you could ever hope to be. We wouldn't want Draco knowing what a coward you are."

Malfoy gave a twisted smirk, "You always were a sick twisted little fuck but it's been so long since I've seen you really enjoy the exhilaration of the kill. How long has it been since you heard someone scream until their voice left them or heard a woman beg for the life of her child? You've gone soft, Severus. We'll have to remedy that.

"It's been so long I wonder, how should we begin? There are so many spells to choose from," Lucius walked dramatically around him in a circle, his robes flowing around him like water. "You know the Malfoy family library is very extensive and I've longed to try out so many curses. But I think we should start with an old familiar friend. That clever little thing you were so proud to show me all those years ago. _Sectumsempra_." Snape could feel a large, deep cut on his chin and across his cheek where blood began to flow.

Snape wanted to say something foul to Malfoy but it felt like his jaw was unhinged.

"Now, Lucius, don't be greedy. I've waited a long time for this," Bellatrix Lestrange in all her glorious insanity came forward towards him. "While I was rotting in Azkaban, refusing to disavow the name of our Lord, you were spilling secrets and telling lies to anyone who would listen!" Snape expected a curse to come but was surprised when Bellatrix bent down and lifted up her robes. He shuddered when he saw her reveal the flesh of her leg. Though she revealed nothing too unsavory, he still had no desire to view an inch of her more than necessary. A glint of reflected light caught his attention, however, and he looked over to where she was removing a large, sharp dagger from its sheath.

"You've been living with that muggle loving fool for too long, Snape. Why don't we try this the muggle way first," and with that she picked up Snape's hand and pushed the blade into a pressure point.

Snape struggled not to cry out as the knife pinched the softest part of his hand and succeeded. He had endured torture more horrible than this and he knew it would be infinitesimally worse before the night was over.

However, Snape had forgotten momentarily that Bellatrix was completely insane. That she had taken such pleasure in her work of torture for the Dark Lord that she knew which nerve endings would cause Snape the most pain. Bending down low, Bellatrix took the blade and cut his pant leg down the middle and sliced at the flesh below his knee hitting some nerve that Snape didn't even know existed.

Still, he didn't cry out. She past the blade all along his leg, shallowly it seemed, but Snape could still feel the artistry of her blade. He was in immense pain but wasn't bleeding enough to lose consciousness. If she kept this up, he could be awake for hours.

She seemed to grow tired of that leg and moved up to rip open first his robes then that heavy jacket, then the white shirt, filthy from the events of the previous day. Taking her time, she finally reached the smooth, firm chest that was already littered with too many scars.

"Our Severus isn't much to look at, is he, Lucius?" Bellatrix's voice seemed low but exhilarated.

"No, he's not. Is he, Draco?" Lucius turned to look at his son who had long since turned green but did not look away.

"No, father he's not." Lucius smirked at his response.

Bellatrix began again making cuts, always over some minute piece of flesh that he had no idea could cause as much pain as it did. Then she dug the blade into his shoulder right into the bone and for the first time, Snape screamed.

"Well done, Bellatrix. It takes a true artist to break our Severus. He's so very proud of his control," Voldemort said from his throne.

"You've had your fun with the muggle toy. Lucius, I want to see him burn," Voldemort ordered from his throne.

"Your will is my command, my Lord. _Incendio Corpus Corporis."_

The scream that was torn from Snape's mouth seemed almost inhuman.

Hp

Harry apparated into the Riddle Graveyard right next to the tombstone of Tom Riddle, Sir. He wanted to pause and look around, this place having been a part of his nightmares for so long but he knew he didn't have any time to waste. Snape could even be dead by now.

Still hidden under his invisibility cloak, he ran the lengthy path from the graveyard up onto the main house. The yard in front of him was expansive and Harry ran quickly through it. He recalled in the dream that there were no windows in the room he was looking for so he would need to enter the house and search for where they were holding Snape.

He was more than surprised that there had been no wards surrounding Riddle Manor. If he was Voldemort, he would have fortified the place like armies were preparing to wage war against it.

Which, come to think of it, wasn't entirely untrue.

But nothing stopped him from approaching the front door. As he turned the doorknob in his hand he was shocked to find that it wasn't even locked the muggle way.

He slowly opened the door and then quickly went inside and closed it. The entryway was enormous with long glass windows that stretched two stories high. Its vastness was only made more conspicuous by the fact that it was entirely bare. Some relative of the Riddles must have taken all their possessions after they were murdered by Voldemort.

Harry walked deeper into the house and listened intently. Walking along a side hallway, he could hear the sounds of someone crying bloody murder and smaller voices laughing and taunting. Quickly, he walked in the direction of the indecent screams.

Approaching an open doorway, his scar began to ache. He fought to steady himself on his feet. He only prayed that Voldemort couldn't tell that he was here as well. He tried to remember Snape's lessons, he tried to block his mind from the pain so hopefully Voldemort wouldn't notice him.

"Potter."

It was only word but spoken by Voldemort meant all the cries and jeers coming from inside ceased and only the sound of the bestial screaming was heard.

Harry held onto his wand, a curse on his lips and steadied himself on his feet. It didn't matter that they knew he was here. He had to save Snape from this fate. And he would have to do this very quickly.

Ignoring the pain, he made his steps as light as he could and walked into the room. Voldemort was sitting on the throne he had seen in his vision looking scaly and reptilian as ever. His red eyes were darting all over the room, looking, he supposed, for Harry.

"Potter is here."

"Where, my Lord? And how did he get past the wards?" Dolohov asked.

Voldemort sneered, "I'm not sure where but I know he's close. He's here to rescue you then, Severus? Well, perhaps you were right and he has grown fond of you, indeed. How fortunate for us. Perhaps we can proceed with our plans from today after all."

But as Harry drew nearer to Snape, he realized there was no way the man could have heard Voldemort. His face was contorted in ways Harry had never seen. His hands were clawing at his body and he had turned in on himself as though he was being beaten by the entire gathering of Death Eaters.

As the Death Eaters drew away from Snape, Harry moved in. All he would need is to touch him, he thought.

He prayed that if there were wards around Riddle Manor, they would allow him to apparate. Seeing Snape up close was something awful. There was blood pouring out of his chin and cheek and there were tiny slices all over his chest and leg. He noticed a gapping hole in Snape's shoulder. His robes had been torn away and it left the man looking so much thinner and more vulnerable than he did in all those layers he wore.

Slowly, Harry kneeled down right next to the man. What he saw took his breath away.

Snape was crying. He was _crying_.

Gods, the stoic Potions Master had tears streaming down his face. The desire to destroy Voldemort and Malfoy multiplied tenfold. How badly must the man in front of him be suffering if he was actually crying. Yesterday Harry would have doubted the man was even capable of it.

Slowly, Harry kneeled in front of the Snape, still thrashing and screaming at the top of his lungs. Looking around quickly, he saw that most of the Death Eaters had left the room, no doubt searching the nearby halls for him. Bellatrix was the only one who remained.

Harry knew that he'd need to have physical contact with Snape in order to apparate. He'd have to expose at least a part of his hand in front of Voldemort and Bellatrix. Harry kneeled over Snape until he was almost on top of him.

In that moment, the Potions Master opened his eyes. Snape's dark eyes were bloodshot and disoriented, tears still pouring. Harry knew that Snape wouldn't have been able to see him even if he was in his right mind, but that look seemed to go straight through his soul.

Voldemort was saying something to Bellatrix. He had his head turned away from them. Harry knew that this was his chance.

He removed his hand from his invisibility cloak and grabbed Snape's hand. The Potions Master's cries doubled at the pain from that one simple touch.

Bellatrix looked over towards them. Harry distinctly heard her say, "Master, there!" and saw a red spell light before he apparated with Snape with him.


	6. The Myth He is In

Disclaimer: I do not own these lovely characters. I'm merely taking them out for a breather.

Warnings: This story is rated M. No specific warnings for this chapter but there are things coming soon. Oh, again keep in mind that while this is AU after book 5, I am using bits of Snape's past that was mentioned in 6 and 7. Thank you to all who reviewed. Please continue to let me know how you think the story is going. This chapter is shorter and I'm having a bit of trouble with the next one. I think you'll all either love it or hate it, with nothing in between. Thanks, as always, to the lovely Laurenke1 for a quick beta.

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"The person who experiences greatness must have a feeling for the myth he is in." -- Frank Herbert's Dune.

Harry apparated outside of Riddle Manor and landed gracelessly in the outskirts of Hogsmeade, the still silence of the night being broken by his professor's continued screams.

Knowing that the man's murderous cries would soon wake the entire village, Harry thought to cast a silencing charm. Any Death Eater following him would be able to hear the professor's screams from Hogwarts. They were still wide open to attack. Before he could utter the charm, he heard rushing footfalls and a familiar voice call out, "Harry!"

Instantly on his guard, Harry released Snape's hand and pointed his wand in the direction the approaching voice came from. Harry's head spun from the adrenaline as Snape's words seemed to echo in his mind, 'Don't assume we are safe yet, Potter.'

In the darkness, Harry could see Remus Lupin rushing up to meet him. The kind, familiar face was exactly who he would have hoped to see but couldn't take any chances. His battle instincts were still running high and he did not lower his wand.

Harry thought quickly about how to confirm that the man in front of him was who he appeared to be. Almost stuttering in his fastidiousness to utter the words he cried out, "What's the password for the Marauder's Map?"

Remus looked down the end of Harry's wand and turned his hands up. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

Harry lowered his wand while Remus for the first time took in the Potions Master as he lay on the ground in agony. He reached into his robes and felt around for something.

"Harry, we need to get him to the hospital wing quickly. Here," he held out a red and white striped sock. "Grab his hand."

Knowing that whatever horrid curse had been cast on Snape was making it painful to lay a hand on him, Harry grabbed the sock first before the Potions Master, who again cried out at the light touch of Harry's flesh on his own.

Remus winced at the sound and said the word that would activate the portkey, "Home." Harry prepared himself as he felt that familiar tug on his navel.

When the world had stopped spinning, he found himself and the two other men in the hospital wing where Madam Pomfrey was waiting for them. The mediwitch had obviously been alerted to the situation, since she did not seem surprised at all to see the professor in such a state.

She drew her wand and seemed to talk to herself, "Quickly, let's get him to bed." She cast _mobilicorpus_ on the Potions Master's body, bringing him the bed closest to them. She had to use severing charms to cut away parts of his robes that were dangling off the man, impeding her work. Harry saw again how thin the man was and wondered how he hid it so well under those bat-like robes. Yesterday, the man had seemed larger than life.

Harry turned his head from where the Potions Master laid, still screaming. "_Expecto Patronum,_" Remus called out and a silvery wolf erupted from the man's wand. "We're safe. You are needed urgently." With that the wolf turned and flew out of a window, disappearing into the night.

"What did you just do?" Harry asked. He had seen Dumbledore's patronus do that only once before, back in his fourth year.

"Just a little trick that Dumbledore taught the Order. The patronus carries a message that can't be intercepted; it's a very safe method of communication," Lupin looked at Harry with a small smile on his face.

All the while Madam Pomfrey was waving her wand and casting what Harry knew to be diagnostic spells on Snape with the man still wailing.

"He's been cursed," Madam Pomfrey stated the obvious. "There's nothing I can do for the pain until he receives the counter curse," she looked over at them. "Professor Dumbledore will know what he needs. Until he arrives, there's nothing I can do." She stepped back from the bed and her face turned slightly red, "That stubborn man! After what happened yesterday you'd think he would have some sense not to go back."

Harry couldn't fathom what he was seeing. Snape had risked his life by going to Voldemort but they were just going to leave him to suffer?

"Wait, there must be something we can do to help him. I mean, what about a pain potion or even Draught of the Living Death? Wouldn't that stop what he's feeling until the counter curse is performed? There's got to be something to stop..." he waved his hand in the general direction of Snape who was still thrashing about on the bed, trying to find some ease of the pain he was in.

"No, it wouldn't, Harry," Remus said.

Harry turned to Remus and was suddenly incredibly embarrassed at his outburst. He had completely forgotten that Remus was an expert in Defense Against the Dark Arts; he had been the only teacher that had managed to teach him anything well enough in that subject. "There's nothing we can do until we can perform the counter curse. Do you know what he was cursed with?" he turned to ask Madam Pomfrey.

"_Incendio Corpus Corporis_," she said, her voice low. Even while she was telling Remus, she was already healing the minor cuts that littered Snape's leg and chest.

Remus' face fell and his voice grew even graver than before, "I've heard of it but I don't know the counter curse."

"What is it?" Harry inquired furiously.

"It's a very dark curse, Harry but Dumbledore should know how to help him. Literally translated it means 'to burn the body.' It's a nasty curse because it starts on the inside and eats its way out. Right now poor Severus' bones are on fire."

Harry listened to what Remus was saying, his face pale. He went over to where Snape was lying on the bed, still thrashing about. Now that the adrenaline rush was over and they were safely inside Hogwarts, Harry felt the weight of what had just occurred settle on his body.

"Voldemort gave him to Malfoy. Said that teachers only needed their minds and their tongues and that he could play with the rest," Harry said with a look of utter revulsion on his face. "What's going to happen to him? I mean, other than horrible pain, what does the curse do?"

Remus approached Harry's seat, "Well, that's what is so insidious about it. It's a bit like the Cruciatus curse, in a way. Only the Cruciatus requires concentration and the presence of the wizard who is casting the spell. As you can see, Malfoy's spell is still active even though he's miles away."

Harry paled as he thought of the Longbottoms wasting away in St. Mungo's. "What's going to happen to him, Remus?"

Remus hesitated but asked, "Could you hazard a guess as to how long Severus has been under the curse, Harry?"

Harry thought for a moment. It took him a few moments to mentally retrace his steps. Mrs. Figg, Dumbledore in the fire, the graveyard, the hallway, the throne room, Hogsmeade.

"About twenty or thirty minutes. Maybe a bit less depending on how long they did...that... to him," Harry waved his hand at the numerous cuts littering the Potions Master's chest and leg.

Remus' face grew grave. "Albus should be here soon," he seemed to say mostly to himself.

Harry really didn't like the sound of the normally kind and optimistic man's voice. "Remus, what could happen to him? If Dumbledore doesn't get here in time?"

Remus spoke slowly, "Nerve damage, first. That wouldn't be too difficult to heal, we do have potions for that. I'm sure Severus even has some in his stores for times when his meetings are especially rough..." Remus could see Harry wouldn't be distracted and continued, "after that it's difficult to say. His brain function would be effected."

That was really all Remus had to say. Harry knew the rest. Snape would lose his mind. There was no way he could entertain the idea of the the dark and foreboding Potions Master walking aimlessly in hospital white pajamas around the halls of St. Mungo's Long-Term Ward. Where was Dumbledore?

Madam Pomfrey's face darkened as she reached the wounds on Snape's face. Harry heard her muttering diagnostic charms.

"Remus, I'm having trouble healing these wounds. I think I know what this is but I'm not entirely certain."

Remus quickly walked over to Snape, drawing his wand. He muttered the same diagnostic charms and Harry saw his eyes grow cold.

"_Sectumsempra. _They used his own spell against him," Remus said, his voice low.

"His own spell?" Harry questioned.

"Yes, Harry. Our Severus is quite the genius when it comes to creating spells. This is one that James and Sirius walked into a few times when Severus was trying to defend himself. I know the counter curse, Poppy," and with that he leaned over Snape's face and started whispering something Harry could not hear.

Harry looked on, marveled as he saw the wounds begin to close. There was still blood on his face as Remus straightened up and immediately stepped away from the suffering man.

"Using Severus' own curse against him sounds exactly like something Malfoy would do. He always did have a flare for the dramatic," Remus said stepping away from the bed.

"How'd you know the counter curse?" Harry asked.

Remus frowned and said, "Severus taught it to me after we began to see it being used by Death Eaters on muggle raids."

Oh, Harry thought. Snape taught it to the Death Eaters, Harry inferred. He thought back to their conversation on the train when he had told Harry that he actually had been a Death Eater and did things that Death Eaters did. It was difficult to reconcile the man in front of him with what he knew to be true.

Harry took in all this and slumped in the chair he was sitting in, his face in his hands, his body visibly shaking. There was nothing he could do to help the man in front of him. Harry had felt what he thought was helplessness before. He felt trapped when he first learned that his name was entered in the Tri-Wizard Tournament and when he thought Voldemort was torturing Sirius at the Department of Mysteries. He'd felt it yesterday when he couldn't get out from behind Snape when the man was physically shielding him with his body.

But none of that even compared to the helplessness he felt as he watched Snape being tortured from the inside out. The man who usually held himself with such grace and control was literally screaming himself raw right in front of him. And there wasn't a thing he could do but watch. Even holding the man's hand would have hurt him.

Not that Snape would want Harry holding his hand.

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw the fireplace in the infirmary flash green and turned his head in time to see Albus Dumbledore gracefully walk from the flames and directly to the bed that held the now beyond hoarse Severus Snape.

"I'm sorry, Remus. I arrived as soon as possible. What did they do to him?"

"_Incendio Corpus Corporis_. Do you know the counter curse, Albus?"

"Yes, thank Merlin. I told Severus this would not end well. What that boy continues to put himself through..."

"You of all people should know why he puts himself through it," Harry said from his spot on the chair. His eyes were red and his face pale and his entire body seemed to be vibrating.

He said nothing else but Dumbledore was still shocked to hear the words of criticism come from his mouth. In a glance, he took in Harry's face and reminded himself again that something had changed tonight. Even when he was so angry with him last year over his failure to help Sirius, Harry had never so openly criticized him.

Nor had he ever been so correct in his criticism.

Dumbledore ignored Harry's statement for now, took out his wand and started muttering what sounded like singing in Latin.

Harry had no idea what Dumbledore was saying, he had never been confident in his Latin. But after a few minutes the change on the professor became evident. The hoarse, bitter screaming stopped and quiet moans of pain took over.

Remus watched this and quietly stepped over to Harry, "Harry, you shouldn't speak to the Headmaster like that. You should know by now that he cares for you and for Severus."

Harry looked up at Remus, his eyes large and angry, "Dumbledore has no right to tell Snape "I told you so" when he's the one who put him up to spying in the first place. You don't know what that Snape's been through. He has no right to be judging what he does to help the Order."

Remus seemed to look over the younger man as if truly seeing him for the first time tonight. With all that had just happened, Remus had forgotten all that Harry had been through in the last twenty four hours. "Harry, I'm very sorry about what happened yesterday. I knew Ron and he was a good man. I know he was your best friend and I'm very sorry that this happened to him, to you."

Remus put a hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry shuddered, a tear falling from his eye. Remus took a piece of chocolate from his pocket and offered it to him. Harry wiped his cheek and looked at the chocolate with a bewildered expression on his face.

It was like the sun rising in the east or Hermione harping on about studying. If Remus Lupin was present there was bound to be chocolate about.

"Do you carry around a sweet shop in your pockets, Remus?"

Remus chuckled, "I've been known to have a Cockroach Cluster on me from time to time. Not usually in the summer though, it gets a big messy, so today must be your lucky day."

The faces of both men fell after that brief moment of levity and Remus look decidedly contrite. Harry decided to rescue him.

"I thought that was a cure for a Dementor attack?"

Remus smiled sadly, "Chocolate's a good cure-all. Between you and me, had I written Richard III, it would have said, 'My kingdom for a bar of Honeyduke's Finest.'"

Harry smiled and took a bite. After the adrenaline rush and subsequent let down, he had to admit that the treat was a welcome respite.

The whispered singing stopped and Dumbledore looked at Remus, pale in his face and said, "Remus, I trust you would be able to tell the higher strength healing and cooling potions from those less potent?"

"I took a NEWT in potions," the man assured him.

"Good. I need you to go down to Severus' office. Behind the portrait of the bubbling cauldron there's a safe. Inside there are several of these potions. I need you to bring them to me quickly. The password for the safe is 'hemlock.' The wards will allow you inside."

Remus nodded and walked to the floo calling out, "Severus Snape's office," and then he was gone.

Dumbledore turned to Harry and summoned a chair. He looked older and more troubled than Harry had ever seen him in all his years here. He seemed to have aged a decade in the last ten minutes.

"You are, of course, correct, Harry. I have no right to judge what Severus does or does not do. He doesn't realize how incredibly brave he is, you see. He's still trying to attain some form of retribution, forgiveness for his past sins. What he hasn't learned yet is that he's earned that many times over. I had hoped that when you offered your forgiveness, he'd put an end to all this but I was, again, obviously wrong."

Harry looked the Headmaster in the eyes and said more than asked, "He told you that he told me about the prophecy. About how he was the one who went to Voldemort?"

"Yes, Harry, Severus informed me. He was rather distraught about it, as you can imagine."

Harry's eyebrows wrinkled, "Distraught? No, I... well, we did have a really... er, intense conversation in the carriage on the Hogwarts Express but I didn't think he would have been upset about it."

Dumbledore smiled. "I believe he was not at all prepared for your reaction to his news. If you had cursed him, spat at him and swore vengeance, I think he would have taken it much better than he did."

For just a moment Harry saw the twinkle return to Dumbledore's aged blue eyes before he seemed to remember where they were. "Severus hasn't had an easy life, Harry, as you probably know by now. He isn't used to kindness, both because of his, well... misanthropic personality but also because of the mistakes he made in his past. He had been waiting to have that conversation with you nearly all your life. I think you surprised him."

Harry was confused by this. During that bout of yelling on the train, he had confessed at least a part of what he had suffered this past year; the guilt and regret that he lived with on a daily basis. How could Snape think that he would cause him more torment after he learned that Snape had felt the same despair?

"But why would that surprise him, sir? I told him things that... well, that I've never told anyone. I understand, sir. Maybe not all of it because it's been so _long_, but I understand what he's gone through. The regret he feels, all of that. How could he think I would want to punish him after knowing what's it like to be in his place?"

Dumbledore sighed and took in the young man in front of him. Harry may have never been a child, like he once thought. No, the weight of the war and the trials he endured from his family had assured that even before he came to Hogwarts. But he had been childish. Dumbledore watched as he saw the changes that only a day had brought in the young man before him.

"Sometimes, Harry, when one lives with guilt for so long the moment of reckoning can be... incomprehensible. Severus has dealt with many things in his life but he has never been confronted with such compassion."

Harry thought on that for only a moment when the fireplace flashed green again and Remus Lupin returned, arms full of small bottles.

"Severus was prepared for an epidemic... or an epic battle. He had stored so many strong healing potions I wasn't sure which to bring, so I brought them all," Remus said as he gave them to Madam Pomfrey who in turn began to administer them to the Potions Master.

"Excellent, Remus, thank you," he said as he turned to Harry, "I don't think Severus will suffer any long term damage. If you had not reached him in time I doubt that the counter curse would have worked. And there was no way we could have past the wards."

Harry blinked at that. "Wards? But there were no wards surrounding Riddle Manor. I was surprised but I just walked inside and apparated with Snape without any trouble from the wards."

Dumbledore smiled, "Harry, there were indeed wards. Strong wards. When Remus' patronus reached me, I was beyond the Riddle graveyard with Alastor and some other members of the Order attempting to dismantle the most indestructible wards I've seen in quite some time. Which, incidentally, is why it took me so long to return to Hogwarts."

Harry was more than confused. This kind of thing happened to him all the time and it was never good. "How then?" he asked, a noticeable level of nervousness in his voice.

Dumbledore's smile was mischievous, "It seems Voldemort keyed the wards to his own blood and conveniently forgot where that blood came from."


	7. Your Hand in Mine

Disclaimer: These characters are not mine.

Chapter Warning: While this story has been relatively tame for six chapters, it will eventually be slash. That means sex/romance/love between two men. If that thought makes you uncomfortable, the time to turn back is now.

A/N: This chapter has been written for almost two weeks now but has undergone massive edits and rewrites as I worked to make it as perfect as possible. I'm sure that it isn't, but not for lack of trying. I have to thank the three different betas who worked on this: Laurenke1, Pandora de Romanus, and forevagreen, the latter taking a good day out of her busy schedule (she moved to Europe this week) to help with Snape's characterization. All remaining mistakes are my own. Please drop a line and let me know if you enjoyed this chapter. If you didn't, constructive criticism is always welcome.

* * *

The three men watched as Madam Pomfrey administered potion after potion to the injured Severus Snape as he lay in his bed in the hospital wing. It was an awful thing to witness such a proud man be reduced to such a helpless state, but no doubt those were Voldemort's exact intentions.

"Well, gentlemen," Dumbledore turned his sight from his potions professor, "it is either very late or very early, I will admit I am not entirely sure which." Dumbledore looked between the two men, "I suggest we adjourn for the night. Any other business between us can wait until morning, which is now not too far off." He said this with a sad smile as he rose and waited for Harry and Remus to walk in front of him.

Remus walked to join the Headmaster but Harry remained.

The other two seemed to notice Harry's absence and turned back; Harry shuffled his feet and ran his hand through his hair as he said, "Shouldn't someone stay with him? I mean, it just seems wrong to leave him like this. What if he needs something, what if he wakes up?"

"Don't concern yourself, Mr. Potter. There's a charm over Severus that will inform me if he's awake or in pain. He will not suffer as far as I can help it, I assure you," Madam Pomfrey told Harry as she used a spell to put Snape in hospital issued night clothes.

Harry frowned; they weren't understanding him. "No, I know that, Madam, but what if he has a nightmare and he thinks he's back in Riddle Manor." Harry had been terrified of that awful place even when he had only seen it in his vision. "You didn't see what they were doing to him, the place he was in. He wasn't even in his right mind when I got him out of there; what if he wakes up alone and thinks he's still there? No one deserves to dream about that and wake up alone." Though Harry was still pale and distraught, he seemed determined that the man would not be alone in his suffering.

The Headmaster raised an eyebrow. He knew that something had changed tonight and was pleasantly surprised to see Harry taking such an issue with Severus' well being. Merlin knew the boy had need of a kind soul to turn to, even better if, after all this time, it was Harry Potter. It was far past time that these two put aside their differences, especially after what had occurred tonight. If Harry wanted to stay here with Severus, he'd gladly allow it.

He also knew very well that there was no way Harry would back down from his protective stance in front of Severus' bed, and he was in no state of mind to be arguing with a young man tonight, "If you wish it, Harry, you may stay with Severus. Just be sure to get enough rest, my boy. I'm not sure what tomorrow will bring, but I'm sure you will need it."

Harry nodded as Madam Pomfrey brought him a change of night clothes.

* * *

Severus Snape rarely dreamed, or he didn't any more, at least. True, he was once plagued by nightmares; most of the nights of his youth were spent reliving the atrocities he committed in the name of the Dark Lord. There was an entire month where all he could dream was stopping himself from going to the Dark Lord on that fateful night so long ago and revealing the prophecy that had shaped both his and the Wizarding World's future.

But as he grew older and both his strength in Occlumency and personal control matured, he stopped having dreams altogether. Well, perhaps to say he never dreamed would be somewhat untrue. But he no longer dreamt of events or people, benign or otherwise. Instead he'd dream of images, feelings. Sometimes he'd dream of the lake at Hogwarts. For hours he'd feel surrounded by its calm waters and relax in his sleep enough to feel the gentle coolness comfort him. It was a lovely respite, no matter how undeserved.

Sometimes he'd dream of fire. Never of the people he had seen slaughtered or the homes that were destroyed. Just fire, all consuming, relentless fire.

At the moment, he felt like he was dreaming of the lake again. His mind and his body felt like he was laying in the murky bottom, cold and numb. It was as if he could almost feel the pain in his body, as though he recognised its presence but chose to ignore it.

His mind felt weary and blurred. Though he had very little recollection of where he was or how he came to be here, a small whiff from his admittedly large and oversensitive nose told him that he was in the hospital wing at Hogwarts. He'd been brought here to be patched up enough times after his clandestine affairs with the Dark Lord to recognize that scent whether he was coherent or not.

He could almost feel his body waking up, almost feel the pain that would accept his dismissal no longer when suddenly all of his attention was focused upon his right hand.

Someone was holding his hand. Not patting it once or twice the way Albus did when he was wounded in the infirmary. Nor was it the gentle touch of Poppy who would take pity on him during his mending.

No, though he was disoriented he could feel the hand holding his with an affection he'd never felt before. Fingers were gently... caressing him, loathe though he was to use the word in relation to himself, lucid or not.

The hand was small but was most definitely male. He could feel the hardened palms and calloused fingers as they ran over his own. Fingers that turned his palm over and ran themselves over his own calluses and lifelines. They traced every scar, every burn that he intrinsically knew were there. He felt it hold his hand up vertically, feeling the tips of his potions-stained fingers. They lined themselves up with his own and then sank in between them, closing themselves around his like lovers do in their youth when walking up and down streets. Then a toughened thumb ran massaging circles around the space between his thumb and forefinger softly. The unfamiliar movements brought the sudden realization of what was occurring to the Potions Master's consciousness.

Someone was making love to his hand.

Even in his incoherent state, he knew he'd never known a touch like this. His horrid looks and acidic personality made it impossible to find love let alone lust in his youth at Hogwarts. He briefly recalled a Ravenclaw boy and losing his virginity in an empty classroom late one night past curfew. He could barely recall his face, let alone his name. Snape was no fool; he had realized early on in his life that he would never find someone of his own. While others were acting like simpering idiots and rutting like wild dogs, he had been content in his world of academics and potions, knowing intrinsically that that would be the world in which he would find his solace. He had felt that way even before he became a Death Eater but after he committed his greatest sin against Lily, his solitude was reinforced.

One could not embark on a journey for absolution always dragging another person along with him. No, his treason merely supported the fact that in his life he was meant to be alone.

His friendship with Lily had been the one shining light in a very solitary life.

Sex had become something to do only out of his body's necessity and with anonymity. And so while he'd slept with men infrequently, he'd never once entertained the idea of taking a lover. He'd never even slept with the same man twice.

He had made a conscious choice a very long time ago to avoid romantic entanglements. Of course, it was no hardship, it wasn't as though they were beating down his door. The "no trespassing" signs he put out at every opportunity saw to that.

Which was why he was so utterly confused to find himself in this situation.

The hand hadn't stopped. It would squeeze his own lightly, then go back to gently mapping his knuckles and the spaces in between them, almost memorizing them for future reference. He had no idea why this was happening to him. What could he have possibly done to deserve such kindness? Was this some stranger who received some sort of malicious pleasure out of bestowing kindness upon ugly, cruel hearted, damned men who had never known a kind touch in their lives?

As much as he was questioning it, he did not want it to stop. Which is why he flinched slightly when he felt more than saw a torch being lit and heard soft footfalls enter the room.

He briefly heard a woman speaking, then the man who was being so kind to him. He could feel, slightly, the vibrations of his voice through his hand. The voice was unrecognizable, like he was hearing it under water but he could make out a soft, kind tenor, and he thought it suited the hand perfectly.

The woman made something that sounded like a short remark and the hand unclenched from his, and made as if to draw away from him.

Instinctually, he used all his strength to keep it from leaving with a firm grasp. Well, he had tried for a firm grasp but wasn't sure he made it past a twitch in his fingers. Nevertheless, the hand came to back to hold his; fingers began to move in small soothing circles again.

He never wanted it to end.

He felt the hand squeeze his for a moment and it left him. He felt cold where it had once been and lamented its loss. Then he felt what was undoubtedly that same hand tilt his head back and pry his lips open. Understanding, he summoned the will to open his lips just enough for him to slip a potion into his mouth.

A strong pain potion and sleeping draught, he thought to himself as he strained to swallow. At least the memory of his potions was intact.

As that was done, he felt a cup being lifted to his face and water being poured gently, slowly down his throat. He didn't catch all of it and shuddered to think what he must look like; weak, injured, and drooling in front of this man. But the underside of that hand was soft as it wiped away the bit of water that remained on his cheek and chin. The torchlight was put out and the hand grasped his again.

Snape had to know. This kind of compassion was beyond his understanding. He'd never known it before, not even with Lily. Perhaps she would have been kind enough to nurse him back to health but she had never had the chance. He had only turned away from the Dark Lord after she went into hiding and he had never been a demonstrative man, even in his friendship with her. He sincerely doubted she would have touched him in this way, and he knew without a doubt that his reaction would not have been as strong.

He had to know who this man was. He cursed his weary body and the potion that was making him twice as tired as before. He had to open his eyes, just to get a glimpse of him, even if he never saw him or knew him again.

His breathing accelerated as every ounce of what little strength he had left labored to open his eyes.

It truly was like being at the bottom of the lake. Not only was his head swimming but his vision was so blurred he would not have been surprised to see fish swim past his view. The darkness of the room was alleviated only by the moonlight coming in from a nearby window. He struggled to focus his vision on the man before him. His head was tilted down at an angle and he saw their hands entwined. That hand was grasping his so firmly, so intimately, he would say it was almost indecent. He realized it was more than just holding.

It was an embrace.

Slowly, he forced his eyes to focus on the arm, which looked small but strong, scattered with dark hairs, then the confidently poised shoulders, pronounced but not too broad. He tried to make out the man's face, but it was so pale that it seemed to absorb the moonlight.

At last, he met his eyes and they took his breath away. Bright green eyes looked straight at him with a distraught but resolved look in their expression. He looked straight at him and all his defenses were down. He wouldn't have been able to form his usual stoic expression even if forced. He considered, briefly, lowering his gaze, but then realized that this man, above any other, deserved to see him as no other ever had before. He forced himself to keep hold of his gaze, not willing to look away.

Weakness. For just this one moment, Snape thought, he could be weak. In all his life, he'd never allowed himself a moment of weakness. His mental will and physical strength had helped him endure all he had to in the name of spying on the Dark Lord. He kept his mental shields strong and never once let his guard down. He had never allowed himself to slip, even once.

But this one time, he thought, he could forget that he was damned. Just for one moment he could entertain the idea that there was someone in this world that could love him and he was looking at him right at this moment.

Although his drowsiness only increased, his mind began to clear. He did not break his gaze away from those piercing green eyes for one moment. After this was over and the world was right again, he would still have this memory. Memory of lovely almond shaped eyes that seemed so familiar. As his conscious mind was slowly coming back to him, he knew he had seen those eyes before.

Lily.

But wait, it couldn't be Lily. This was unmistakably a man in front of him, and Lily was dead, Severus knew that all too well. His betrayal had lead to her death, which was why he was in the infirmary, why he was fighting against the Dark Lord. Fighting for an atonement he would never receive, for the life of a boy...

Wait.

No, it couldn't be.

Snape eyes widened and he looked again, harder, straining his tired eyes and mind. Trying to see the boy he knew in the man before him and not finding him. The firm but kind set of his eyes, the strength of his shoulders and that hand that had still not stopped gently caressing him.

"Harry?" the word was out of his mouth almost of its own volition. His throat was raw and the voice sounded nothing like his own.

Harry nodded, "I'm here, sir. You're safe, I got you out of there. You're at Hogwarts, you're safe now."

No. He couldn't accept this. He endured being a spy for the Order in a vain attempt to attain retribution. He had been alone in this life for a reason. He knew that not only did he not deserve a kind touch, but any man he was involved with wouldn't deserve the dead weight of his betrayal that came with him. He didn't deserve the comfort he was receiving, let alone comfort from the son of the two he had killed. It was an abomination.

But he had been alone for so long, and that touch was the kindest he had ever known. He could feel his will to protest slipping away. That touch was so tender and Snape was so tired. He was weary in his body, in his soul.

_Just this once, _he thought_, please. Never again, I swear, just this one time..._

He had no idea who he was pleading and bargaining with but he had to know this just once in his life and he'd never ask for it again. He swore, he would never again take solace in any kindness the young man before him would give him. Of all the people in the world that he could burden with his sins, this was one whom above all others did not deserve such an atrocity.

Harry seemed to sense the thoughts going through Snape's mind because his brow crinkled and his hand stopped moving, almost seeming to know of Snape's hesitance.

He was already damned to hell for this and many other things. _Just this one thing_, he thought to himself. Snape gently moved his own thumb over Harry's hand to reciprocate the kindness he had received. Harry glanced down at their hands thoughtfully. Then his brow smoothed and he gave a soft smile that seemed to light up the room.

_Gods. _

Harry's hand continued the gentle caressing that Snape so longed for, as Snape mirrored his actions.

All his energy spent, Snape took in Harry's eyes one last time and fell asleep.

Hp

* * *

After the two men had gone to their respective rooms and Madam Pomfrey to the suite behind her office in the infirmary, Harry went to lie down in the bed that was closest to Snape's. He tried to will his body to actually feel the exhaustion he could sense was trying to overtake him but it didn't work. He longed for sleep, wanting so badly to escape the events of the day without having them plague his thoughts into the night.

Though Harry had been completely truthful when he told the Headmaster that Snape should not be by himself, he couldn't ignore the voice in the back of his head telling him that his motives were not completely unselfish. More than anything, after the day he had, he did not want to be alone. The idea of going to a room and lying in a bed like the one he and Ron had slept in for past six years left him breathless and shaking. He just knew that he would wake up and look at the space next to him expecting Ron to be there.

He also could not ignore the fact that when he had been in the presence of his professor today, he had not felt as alone as usually did. For the past year he had grown used to feeling alone even in the crowed Gryffindor common room, even with Ron and Hermione. Harry stifled a sob and thought, _especially with Ron and Hermione_. That feeling of guilt that he had almost felt while in his room on Privet Drive suddenly came to him like a flood.

He still couldn't fathom that his friend was gone, or that the man next to him had been the one to save his life. Again.

Wanting to distract himself, he sat up in his bed and turned to get a good look at the man. Once Madam Pomfrey had healed his wounds and left him to mend, she had put him in white infirmary standard night clothes. It was odd seeing Snape, who normally wore what Harry now knew to be several layers of clothing, looking so exposed. The man was much thinner than he appeared to be. His inky dark hair fell over the white of the pillowcase like silk. He had always wondered if it was as greasy as it looked.

Harry stood up and wondered how much of a Gryffindor he really was. He went around the foot of Snape's bed and sat in the chair next to him. Before his courage could leave him, he reached out and tentatively touched a strand of Snape's hair.

It was greasy. But not awfully so, more like he should take better care to wash it everyday. With all that went on in the man's life, he doubted that personal hygiene was on the top of his priorities.

"_Greasy git_," Ron had called him. Harry stifled a sob that seemed to have started in his chest but quickly ran through his whole body. He shuddered as he though, _Well, Ron, you were right. Maybe not so much on the git part though_.

Trying in vain to push thoughts of Ron aside, he leaned back in the chair again and studied the man in front of him. He wrapped his hands around the back of his neck and attempted to gain control of his breathing. Watching Snape, he couldn't help but be so incredibly grateful to this man who had not only saved his life but had tried so hard to relieve Harry of the guilt of his friend's death.

He still couldn't believe that Snape had cared enough to do that or that he had placed the blame on himself. As if the blame could fall on anyone other than Voldemort and Lucius Malfoy. Even if he had disliked Ron, Harry knew he would have defended him if he could.

The man's calm demeanor was a shock difference to what it had been just a little while ago. Harry decided to take advantage of the situation he was in as Snape slept. Although he had, of course, known what the professor looked like, he had never been able to get a good look at the man's face. The few times he'd cared enough to try, the Potions Master would inevitably know somehow that Harry was looking at him and he would find himself under Snape's glare.

He looked over the man's face. It didn't look half as harsh while he was asleep as it did when Snape was actively terrorizing his students. His hair was still completely black, unlike Remus who had gone prematurely gray. His face had a few lines and his large nose was crooked as though he had broken it several times but had not had it mended. Harry wondered why it hadn't been set right. Harry had his share of breaks with Quidditch, and he'd come out of it relatively scar free thanks to Madam Pomfrey.

The obvious then occurred to Harry and he mentally slapped himself. Really, it was no wonder why Snape doubted his intelligence. This was the first time that he'd really looked at the man. He had no idea when all the incidents that showed on his face occurred. They were in the middle of a war and Snape was a spy in the enemy's camp. Of course he couldn't just go to Madam Pomfrey for every bump and bruise. There must be whole weeks in the summer when he was at Voldemort's mercy.

Not for the first time that night, Harry thanked the gods that he had been able to locate Snape. Merlin knew what would have happened if Snape had not gone back to Hogwarts to report to Dumbledore.

Harry thought about what Dumbledore had told him. How Snape would be quicker to accept being spat in the face and cursed rather than receive kindness. Compassion, the Headmaster had called it. He was tempted to snort at the thought, but stopped himself.

For the first time, Harry realized that he had assumed so much about this man. He knew that he was a Potions Master, a spy in the Order, that he had been a Death Eater and that he had been friends with his mum, but that was really all he knew. His mind stopped on that last thought. He had said that she was his only friend. Surely he meant at the time; his only friend while he had been in school.

Harry knew he'd been stupid to assume things like this before but what if his mother had been Snape's only real friend. He'd been teaching at the school since the end of the last war. That meant that he was here year round, busy with classes and detention and his potions making. He knew that no one in the Order really liked him; most viewed him with just a look just sort of malice and disbelief that he was even among them. So who were the man's friends and when did he have any time to be with them?

Harry thoughts wandered down that road for only a moment longer when he stopped himself. Just as he had thought earlier, he knew that Snape wouldn't want Harry pitying him. If he had lead the lonely life that Harry thought, that only meant that Harry could understand him more than he did before.

He shuddered a breath and a stray tear fell from his eye. Gods, but he felt guilty at that. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he had grown apart from his friends in this last year. The weight of the prophecy and the despair that he felt crushing him every minute of the day had driven him from that protective feeling he so enjoyed in previous years when his friends had been his entire world. At least he had friends, though, Harry thought. Maybe Snape had some secret life, or any life, away from Hogwarts that he returned to in the summer. That was entirely plausible. It still didn't stop some odd feeling from welling up in his chest when he thought of the Potions Master.

Why did he feel less alone in the presence of his professor? He knew his feelings for Snape had changed in the last day but what were they now? Kinship? Strange, that, but true enough. Harry had endured things that only Snape could understand. If there was anyone in the world who understood him, it was the Potions Master.

Which was an extremely disturbing thought to have. Just yesterday he would have said he had no kind thoughts for the man. Now when he thought of the man it almost felt like he was his... friend, perhaps?

Harry snorted at that thought. There was no way he could ever tell Ron that, he'd go completely mental...

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. It was as if someone had punched him in the stomach. Harry curled up in his chair and sobbed. His breath was uneven and tears flowed freely down his cheeks. The grief had just snuck up on him; he didn't even see it coming. His glasses fell on his lap as he curled into a ball and broke down.

Of course Ron wouldn't flip out. Ron was never going to go completely mental on Harry ever again. He'd have nothing to say on the Snape issue because he'd never say anything again.

Harry's sobs were interrupted by a slight movement of the Potions Master. He grunted hoarsely and fidgeted in his sleep. His eyes moved rapidly behind their sockets and Harry guessed that he was probably having a nightmare.

He uncurled himself from his chair. He fought to catch his breath and rubbed at his eyes as he put on his glasses. Thoughts of Ron were still in the forefront of his mind and he tried in vain to stop the tears from flowing from his eyes. Consciously, he pushed down that grief that had taken him by surprise until it was a pain in his stomach. He couldn't mourn his friend now. As much as he wanted to, as guilty as he felt, Ron wasn't here right now; but Snape was. He had to help the man if he could.

He couldn't be sure of what Snape was dreaming about but he had a fair idea. He knew Snape wouldn't want him anywhere near him, let alone accept any comfort or even admit he needed it. But the man had been through so much today and he'd helped Harry more than he knew. He shuddered to think of what state he would have been in had Snape not talked to him on the train. No, he couldn't leave him to suffer. If there was any pain Snape was in that Harry could take away, he would do it.

His hands shaking slightly and his breathing still harsh, he mustered all of that lauded Gryffindor courage and took hold of Snape's hand. He gripped it firmly, trying to show him through touch, that he was safe.

Almost immediately, the Potions Master calmed down. Harry breathed a sigh of relief and gripped the hand in his tighter.

He looked down on it. He'd noticed Snape's hands before. He'd always thought they were... elegant. They seemed to fit his personality. Dignified hands for a dignified man. Even when he had hated him, he'd noticed that about him.

But as he was looking down on them, he noticed all the tiny little nuances that he hadn't seen before. Slowly, he turned the hand over and rubbed his palm. There were tiny scars, no doubt from many potions accidents over the years. Harry smiled softly. Snape probably wouldn't admit that even under the pain of torture. That thought made the smile leave his face and he took in the hand that was in his own. As he did so, that feeling of kinship returned.

He held Snape's hand up vertically, still not letting go. He saw the stained finger-tips, years of practice and the love of potions showing on each of Snape's fingers. It was like the man's hands told his story for him. How very fitting, he thought. If anyone were inclined to get to know the man, they'd just have to look at his hands.

They were elegant, scarred, stained and strong, much like the man himself.

Compassion, Harry thought, hearing the words the Headmaster had spoken tonight run through his mind. Dumbledore said that he had shown Snape compassion. He brought their hands up together, lining their fingers up. His hand was much smaller than Snape's. He laced their fingers together and looked up at the man's face.

He grasped his hand, fingers entwined between them, and gently rubbed his thumb over the back of it. Looking up at Snape's face again, he could see the Potions Master was relaxed and he seemed more at peace than Harry had ever seen him.

Which wasn't saying much.

Suddenly, Snape's face was showing signs of being awake and he wore an expression that was almost like confusion.

Just as Harry had thought it, a torch was lit in the infirmary, and Madam Pomfrey appeared from her office.

"My alarms went off, is Severus alright?" She seemed to take in Harry leaning over Snape's bedside, hand thoroughly entwined with Snape's, and raised her eyebrow.

"Severus might not be awake to object, Mr. Potter, but you can't honestly think that he'd want you to be doing that?"

Harry frowned at her. Perhaps the professor wouldn't be too happy with Harry's hand in his but the man had been disturbed in his sleep. He was suffering and Harry, for once, had the power to help him. He'd seen the change immediately. How could he leave him to suffer if he could help it? This man had helped him so much, holding his hand was no chore.

"He was having a nightmare. Holding his hand seemed to calm him down. I'd really rather not leave him," Harry said, his voice still broken but with something like agitation in his eyes.

Madam Pomfrey didn't seem to notice, "Be that as it may, Harry, Severus does not have the means to communicate his dissatisfaction now. It wouldn't be prudent for you to keep doing this. Now that he's out of danger, there are potions I can give him to help his sleep."

Not wanting to fight the Mediwitch on this, Harry began to draw his hand away from Snape's. Then, surprisingly, he felt Snape hold on. There was no mistaking the slight grip around his fingers. Snape didn't want him to leave. He wanted Harry to stay.

Harry smiled.

The Mediwitch seemed to notice Snape's grip and she sighed, exasperated. "Fine, Mr. Potter. You see how you like it when he's himself again and learns it was you he was holding onto." With that, Poppy shoved a potion into Harry's hand and walked off to her suite again.

Harry squeezed his hand lightly, letting him know he wasn't going far, then tilted Snape's head back and opened his lips.

Snape's lips really were thin, Harry thought. But other than that, they were perfectly fine. Not overly chapped or anything. Normal lips, really. But Harry couldn't help but feel odd at having touched them.

Snape seemed to understand what was going on well enough to down the potion. Knowing how foul these things could be, Harry took the water that had been left by the bedside and offered it to Snape. The Potions Master drank slowly, spilling a little onto his cheek and chin. The torchlight went out and they were alone again.

Harry thought nothing of simply wiping off the water with his hand. The action seemed completely normal to him.

Setting the cup back where it had been, Harry resumed holding the man's hand, gently caressing it, telling him silently that he was safe. That, for the moment, everything was alright.

Harry simply sat with the man for another minute, before he noticed those dark eyes slowly starting to open. He stiffened momentarily, wondering if this was his last chance to drop the man's hand and try to pretend nothing happened.

But he couldn't do that. He would own up to this, even if the man flayed him alive with his razor sharp tongue later.

Slowly, Harry saw the dark eyes open and try to focus. Snape was looking at their hands. But the astonished look on his face betrayed him. He was looking at them as if he had never seen his own hand before. Or, perhaps, as if no one had ever held his hand in his life.

Harry softly inhaled and recalled his earlier thoughts as he realized that thought could very well be true. He remained still as Snape's eyes moved up from his hands, to his arms and shoulders, then finally to his face.

It was more than obvious that the man either couldn't see or couldn't recognize him. That was fine by Harry. This was the only thing he could do for the man at the moment and he wanted to help him.

He doubted Snape would be up for the shouting match that would certainly ensue had he been cognizant. The man was looking directly into his eyes, yet seemed to be looking past him. Harry didn't know what to make of that.

The eyes were searching his own, Harry could see the man's mind working, trying to understand what was going on. Then suddenly it was like a torch had been lit. The man's eyes went wide for a moment. His face took on an open look of bewildered disbelief and a very hoarse voice that sounded nothing like the Potions Master's usual deep timbre, questioned, "Harry?"

Harry was surprised that he was so pleased to hear his first name uttered from his professor's lips and wanted nothing more than to assure the man that he was safe. He nodded and said, "I'm here, sir. You're safe, I got you out of there. You're at Hogwarts, you're safe now." He hoped the man understood him.

A million different expressions flashed across the man's face all at once. Disbelief, sadness, terror. Terror at what, Harry thought?

Sensing the man's growing discomfort, Harry began to pull his hand away. He startled when he felt Snape's hand grip his, the man's thumb falling on top of the scar on his hand.

_I must not tell lies._

Looking at the scar immediately made him think of Ron and Hermione, of their adventures together before things had fallen apart so badly for him this past year. Holding Snape's hand, he couldn't help but feel guilty that he had managed to save one man's life but not his best friend's. He knew in his conscious mind that it wasn't the same thing. Ron's death had happened so suddenly while Snape was being slowly tortured to death. But he couldn't help but feel trepidation, looking down and seeing that reminder of their past together, knowing that all he had to look forward to were memories of Ron.

The man gently echo Harry's earlier motion, rubbing his thumb across the top of his hand, trying to offer comfort to Harry. Those wounds had healed ages ago, yet somehow it felt fitting for Harry that Snape touch it now. He doubted Snape had ever noticed the scar, but no one had ever touched it like that before. Without knowing what he was doing, the man was helping Harry yet again.

Harry looked up at Snape who was wearing the most open expression Harry had ever seen. He realized what his face must have looked like in that moment: pale, trembling and guilt stricken. Snape had such an open look of terror on his own that Harry couldn't help but give Snape a small smile.

Harry doubted he would ever see Snape's face be so open ever again, so he paid attention to every nuance, every line and look as the Potions Master seemed to relax into his hand and drifted back to sleep.

Hp

* * *

A/N Part two, notes on chapter: I really sweated over this chapter because in a way it's a flashback to chapters two (the last time Snape and Harry were alone in a room together for an extended period of time) but it's also the pause between breaths. The characters just had a very long day (seven chapters) and now that the 'intro' is over, I wanted to have them slow down just a bit. I received a few comments from the last chapters on how Harry was easily distracted from Ron's death, which is completely true. With all the action going on in the last chapters (especially the last one, what with the man in black screaming on the bed) Harry just didn't have time to think of Ron at all. This chapter was an attempt to slow it down before things start to happen again, as well as to give that first hint of something more between them. I hope you enjoyed. -- atypicalsnowman


	8. Their Morning Glory

Disclaimer: These characters are not mine and I do not make any income from them in any way.

A/N: Thank you to all who reviewed the last chapter. This chapter took a bit longer to post; I had to completely switch gears. Now that the intro is over, we'll be getting into the heart of the story. My thanks to beta Laurenke1 and the wonderful Torina Archelda who spent almost four hours going over the entire plot of the story with me, checking for holes and errors. If you see that the commas are where they're supposed to be, thank her. Thank you, also, to those who commented on the "making love to his hand" line. Every chapter starts with a single sentence and goes from there. The 'hands' line was that sentence for the last chapter and the third sentence below was the sentence for this one. Thank you all for your words of kindness and criticism as this story progresses.

* * *

Two young men were sitting in the shade of a tall tree in the center of a grassy field on a warm summer day. They sat with their backs against it, neither looking at the other, in the middle of a very awkward silence.

"I was going to be an auror, you know."

Harry grimaced and looked down at his hands, "Yeah, I know."

"Or a professional quidditch player. I wasn't entirely sure yet," Ron said, bluntly, looking off into the distance.

Harry had nothing to say to that. Instead he continued to look down at his fingers, as if they were the most fascinating things in the world.

"I was going to make something of myself. I wasn't going to just be the sixth son of a poor, joke of a wizard," Ron voice was calm but his words drove a knife through Harry's heart.

"Ron," Harry turned to look at his friend for the first time, "you were never just ..." Harry gulped down a tremor that ran through him, "you were my friend..." Whatever Harry was going to say was cut off as Ron continued his diatribe as though Harry had never spoken.

"I was going to marry Hermione." Ron paused upon saying this and picked up a twig and snapped it in half. "You know, I never even kissed her? Never even told her how much I loved her? I always thought there was time. Right idiot, I was, right?" Ron turned to him and met his gaze, wearing a very fake smile on his face; his eyes were cold.

"I thought you had time too."

"Yeah, but I didn't. So tell me, Harry, why didn't I? Why am I dead, Harry?" Ron drove the pieces of twig into the ground and tore out a bit of grass, his fist dirty and red.

Harry turned away from those piercing blue eyes and bowed his head again. "I don't know."

The voice that had been so cold and calm immediately struck out at him, "You don't know?! Wow, alert the media. There's something that the Great Harry Potter doesn't know!" Ron's voice was cruel as he raised his voice. "Well, tell me something else then, Harry. Why were you there for him when you weren't there for me?"

The accusation was like a slap in the face. "Ron, it wasn't like that. I couldn't. It all happened so quickly..."

"You couldn't, could you? Well, what about him? You certainly jumped to rescue for him." Ron stood up abruptly and pointed to a place on the far side of the field. Harry saw a young James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew laughing and jeering as a young Severus Snape was being dangled in mid air by his foot.

Harry got to his feet abruptly and Ron stood in front of him, blocking his view with his body. "Want to save him, do you? Is that your whole 'saving people' thing? Worked out pretty well for some." Ron began to count on his fingers, "You saved Ginny, you tried to save Sirius, hell, you even brought back Cedric Diggory's body. But where were you when you could have saved me, Harry? Where were you with your visions and your invisibility cloaks? Or do you only do Death Eaters now?"

Harry paled and withheld the tears that wanted to fall at his best friend's taunts. "I wanted to save you, Ron. It just happened so quickly. Snape thought Malfoy was aiming for me..."

"Yeah, the overgrown bat was so quick to protect you. And why is that, Harry? Why was he so quick to protect you?"

Harry was silent. He looked over to the field where the four boys were still laughing at Snape. He couldn't see the man's face, his robes had fallen over to cover it. He was wearing infirmary white nightclothes underneath. Harry looked back into the hard gaze of his best friend.

Ron gaze was cold and his voice angry as he said, "He killed your mum, Harry. It doesn't matter if he wasn't the one who uttered the curse, he killed her."

Harry tried to reason with him, "No, Ron, wait, you don't understand. He didn't know it was her when he heard the prophecy. He didn't know who it was talking about..."

"And that makes it okay? He didn't know the baby he was going to have murdered so that makes it alright?"

Harry was silent at that. The thought had occurred to him and he wondered what would have happened if Voldemort had assumed it was Neville the prophecy spoke of. How different the war would have gone if Snape hadn't changed sides.

"No, it doesn't make it okay. But look, Snape told me something," Harry struggled to take a breath and slow down. He needed Ron to understand this. He thought back to that conversation on the train and how much had changed when Snape told him his role in his parents' death. "He told me that when he revealed the prophecy to Voldemort, he felt like he was an instrument of Fate," Harry realized how ridiculous he sounded at that moment but pleaded with his friend to understand. "That it was Fate that he turned against Voldemort and became a spy..."

"It was Fate?!" Ron interrupted, red in his face and looking like he was about to explode. "He said it was Fate and you believed him? How stupid are you to believe a line like that? And they called me stupid! Do you have any idea how idiotic you sound right now?"

Harry looked his friend in the eyes, "Look, I know it sounds stupid, Ron, but I believe him. I know what that feels like..."

Ron shouted at the top of his voice, "Oh, you know what that's like, do you? You know all about him? One conversation and you think you know the man?" Ron's gaze was lethal as he said, "You know nothing about him."

He seemed to deflate for a moment before he said harshly, "And I never knew you. If you think you can actually see yourself in that utter bastard, then I can't believe I was ever your friend. You disgust me."

Harry was sobbing at Ron's words. Tears ran freely down his face and his entire body shook as he tried to grab onto Ron, and begged, "Ron, look, you don't know what I went through, what it was like. I know I was a bad friend..."

Ron erupted, "You never told me what it was like. You never even tried. All those nights I stayed up with you, you never even once tried to talk with me about it. I always hoped you would but I guess you couldn't see yourself turning to your stupid friend, could you?"

Harry sobbed as Ron pushed him away, "No, Ron, I didn't think you were stupid, I just didn't want to burden you. I didn't want you to know..."

"No, but you want him to know. You want him to know _you_. Do you know how twisted that is? He's evil, Harry. And if you can see yourself in him, then maybe you're evil too."

Harry sobbed. Why couldn't Ron understand? "Ron, no. That's not true. He's not evil. Maybe he's not nice and yeah he is kind of a bastard but he's not evil. If he ever was, he's tried to make up for it. He's done so much good..."

"He can never redeem himself, Harry. He has blood on his hands. Just like you," Ron said as he screamed at him and pointed to Harry's hands. Harry gasped as he looked at his hands. They were dark red, covered in blood.

"You know whose blood that is? It's Sirius' and it's mine and everyone else's who died in your name." Ron looked over at Snape, "You think your hands are filthy, you should see his." Ron scoffed, "I guess you do have something in common."

Harry gasped and turned away in time to see his father finally taking Snape down from where he was hanging. When he turned back, Ron was laying on the ground on his back, his eyes looking straight at him, dull and lifeless.

"No!" Harry rushed to his friend's side. He held his friend's head the way Hermione had yesterday and sobbed, "Ron, please. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Ron, please..."

Harry Potter awoke with a start, falling off the chair he had slept in, shaking and sobbing. In the corner of his eye, he saw what must have disturbed his sleep. The very worried face of the headmaster was looking at him with concern from the green flames of the hearth.

"Good gracious, Harry. Are you alright, my boy?" Dumbledore asked him.

Harry quickly got up from his place on the floor and regretted it instantly. Every muscle in his body seemed to be incredibly angry with him for sleeping in that chair and were making their protests known.

Loudly.

And in several different languages.

His face was still wet with tears and his body still shaking. He stretched his neck, wiped his face and said, "I'm fine, Headmaster. I just had a nightmare." His voice sounded unsteady, even to himself. He wondered what he must have looked like right then.

Dumbledore looked at him as if he expected him to fall apart at the seams any moment. After the nightmare he'd just had, he really didn't need the Headmaster looking at him that way, his face full of pity.

"Really, Professor, I'm fine. After the day I had yesterday, it's to be expected, I think." Harry schooled his face to be impassive, which was very difficult when he was still trying to overcome the panting breaths that come after a long sobbing. He really didn't want to have this conversation with the man, whether he was genuinely concerned or not.

The headmaster seemed to accept this for the moment and said, "The reason I called you, Harry, was to invite you up to my office for breakfast. Remus will be coming as well; I'd like to speak with both of you."

"Alright, Professor, I'll just be a moment," Harry agreed. The floo flashed green and the flames turned to their regular color. Harry turned to find his clothes when he turned and saw Professor Snape's hand dangling gracelessly off the bed. He must have held it all night and then dropped it suddenly after he fell from his chair. After the nightmare he had just experienced, he was feeling more than simple trepidation as he bent down slightly to pick it up. As he held Snape's hand in his own, he turned it over again, seeing it in the clear light of day. It was just as he remembered it from last night; strong, scarred, elegant.

And clean.

He held it briefly, remembering his dream and the conversation on the train that felt like it took place weeks ago instead of hours.

If Snape was damned, then so was he.

Harry squeezed it once and then laid it on the bed, next to the man. "I'll be back later, Professor. You'll be safe here," Harry said to the man softly. He walked around to the other bed to retrieve his clothes when he realized that they were the same ones that he had been wearing yesterday on the Hogwarts Express. Casting a quick cleaning charm on them and himself, he went in search of Madam Pomfrey.

* * *

Harry turned and walked out of the hospital wing. Making his way toward the Headmaster's office, he encountered Remus at the gargoyle. He took in Harry's red eyes and pale demeanor and gave him a soft smile and short pat on the back. "Good morning, Harry. I guess it's time for the debriefing. Have you had breakfast yet? Acid pops."

Harry attempted to rally himself and failed miserably, "No, but the headmaster said he'd save some for us."

Riding up the staircase and walking through to the office, they found the headmaster sitting behind his desk, bidding them to sit down.

Harry viewed the full breakfast in front of his chair. The rich aroma made his stomach growl but he was wary to eat any of it. The last time he'd eaten anything, aside from the chocolate Remus conveniently had with him last night, was the roast Aunt Petunia had made. Knowing that he needed to keep up his strength, he picked up his fork and tried a bit of egg.

Dumbledore picked up his tea cup and said, "I believe we can wait for the debriefing until after we eat our breakfast. For now, Harry, how are you feeling today?"

Harry swallowed some of his eggs and looked at the old man like he had gone completely insane. He thought briefly about what kind of answer the man expected from him, especially in such an informal setting. How did he think he would be feeling? In a period of twenty four hours he had been attacked, suffered the loss of his best friend, found out a terrible truth about his parents' murder, discovered he had more in common with a man he had thought he hated than his best friends, and rescued said man from certain death from a group of vicious madmen.

It was a wonder he was still sane at this point.

"I'm fine, Headmaster. How are you?"

The Headmaster didn't seem to catch the disdain in Harry's voice but frowned a bit and went on. "I know that yesterday was a terrible day, Harry. I'm not expecting you to be fine but I do wish to know your state of mind before we continue having this conversation."

Harry had been eating a bit of sausage and didn't even bother swallowing before he said, "You want to make sure I'm not about to go off my nut, then. Is that it?"

Remus cleared his throat, "Harry, I know you're upset and you have every right to be but now's not the time--"

Harry interrupted him and said, "No, of course not." He recalled Snape's words to him as they boarded the train yesterday. He knew it wasn't the time for mourning. That would come later, much later. The thought of more nightmares and grief sneaking up on him in the middle of the day made him shudder. He took a deep breath and exhaled, "I'm sorry, Headmaster, I shouldn't have said that. I understand your concern. Truly. You're concerned because you have a vested interest in me. It would be bad for the Order if I was to go completely barmy, I get it." Harry wasn't being sarcastic, nor was he being rude. He said this very clearly and with a maturity greater than his years.

To say that the Headmaster was shocked would have been an understatement. Dumbledore put his fork down and looked at him, "Is that what you think, Harry. Truly?" The Headmaster looked extremely sad all of a sudden and Harry felt a surge of guilt well up in him.

"I honestly don't know what to think, Headmaster," Harry admitted.

Dumbledore's expression was a mixture of guilt and sadness. Harry felt horrible for the way he had answered, but for once, he had wanted to let the man know the truth. After what happened yesterday, he realized his relationship with the Headmaster needed to change.

The old man opened his mouth to speak but then shut it again. Harry couldn't remember a time when the older wizard had been struck speechless. He lowered his head and studied his plate.

"I'm very sorry, Harry, that you feel that way. The Order does have a vested interest in your health and well being but so do I." The man paused here and waited until Harry looked up at him to speak to him, looking him straight in the eye, "I know that my actions towards you over the years may have confused this point, but please believe that I do care for you very much. I think it's impossible to know you and not care for you, my boy."

Harry guilt multiplied tenfold at that. He knew the headmaster cared for him, he just had a very odd way of showing it sometimes.

"I do know that, sir. I'm sorry, I don't know why I said that."

Dumbledore waved him off, "You said it because that is how you truly feel, and the fault for that lies completely with me. After Sirius' death last year, I should have made a greater effort for you. I should not have assumed so much."

Remus put his head down and grasped at Harry's shoulder at the mention of Sirius' death.

"Well," Dumbledore smiled and looked between the two men, "perhaps we can agree then, Harry, that we should try to keep less from each other?"

Harry gave the Headmaster a baffled look and then glanced quickly over to Remus. "Would you do that, Headmaster? I mean, I don't mean to be rude, sir, but you've never been forthcoming when it came to giving me information. I mean, it really does seem like you know everything about me, even things I don't know myself."

The smile that had graced Dumbledore's face faded a bit and he paused before he spoke, "You're to be seventeen in a few weeks and after the events of yesterday and what we can expect in the future..." the man paused as he considered for a moment, "Very well. If it does not compromise the safety of the Order or its members, I will keep you informed of what transpires from now on. Will that be acceptable?"

It was more than acceptable really, it was about time. For just a moment, he allowed himself to be angry that this moment hadn't come sooner. If it had, then Sirius would still be alive. It was only a moment that he allowed himself to indulge in that anger before he put it away. That was in the past now and he had to move forward. Regardless of how long it took, the headmaster was finally willing to treat him like he wasn't a child anymore.

"Yes, thank you, Headmaster." Harry gave him a small smile and Dumbledore's grin grew wider.

"Well, now that that's settled, I'm wondering if we can move on to the reason we are all here. I'd like to start by asking exactly what you saw in the vision, Harry, and how you knew Severus was at Riddle Manor."

The awful memories of seeing Snape tortured came back to him like a flood. He steeled himself as he began to recount everything that he had seen through Voldemort's eyes. The torture, the Legilimency, Snape convincing Voldemort that he could get close to Harry. He told them about going into the manor and Voldemort sensing his presence once he was outside the door to the throne room.

As he ended his tale, a house elf came and took away their finished breakfast plates. Both Remus and Dumbledore had listened quietly and intently during the time Harry was telling his story.

Both the Headmaster and Remus were quiet and he could almost see the wheels spinning in the older man's eyes. "Is there anything else, Harry, any other detail, no matter how small, that you could think to tell us?"

Harry frowned and tried to think if there was any detail that he had overlooked. "No, that's all. I woke up just as I saw Lucius Malfoy drawing his wand." He suddenly shot up in his chair as he remembered something very important. "Draco Malfoy's a Death Eater."

The headmaster's eyes visibly darkened. He steepled his fingers and his voice was grave as he asked, "How can you be sure, Harry? Are you certain you saw Draco and not his father?"

Harry shook his head, "No, Headmaster, I'm sure. Lucius Malfoy was there too. They were arguing about Snape. Draco was trying to convince Voldemort that it was possible for Snape to get me to trust him."

The headmaster was quiet for a moment as he thought about what Harry had just told him. No one dared make a sound; the only noise in the office was the soft trilling of Fawkes on his perch.

At last the Headmaster moved and sighed, "Well, that is certainly disappointing news. I think that may have been his first meeting, otherwise Severus would have mentioned it. Yes, very disappointing. I was so hoping that Draco would come to me before he made this decision." The headmaster seemed to openly lament the loss of his student.

Remus spoke up. "Draco turned seventeen this year. It would make sense to wait for the summer break to mark him." Dumbledore nodded at Remus' speculation, seemingly lost in his thoughts.

Seeing the Headmaster so worried for a student brought a new layer of comprehension to Harry in regard to the older wizard in front of him. The man really did care for the students under his care. It was hard for Harry to see it sometimes, but, as Remus had said yesterday, he did know that the Headmaster cared for him, even though it wasn't always apparent.

"There's something I don't understand, Harry," Remus turned to him with a troubled look on his face. "How did Voldemort know you were outside the throne room?"

Harry looked down at his hands, at bit ashamed at his confession, "Well, I never did learn Occlumency properly. He just seemed to know that I was there. My scar hurt, like it always does when the bastard's around..." Harry was interrupted by a visibly upset Remus.

"Wait," he put up a hand to stop Harry's speaking, "You mean to tell me that you still haven't mastered Occlumency? I knew you hadn't before the battle at the Department of Mysteries but what about this past year? Who's been teaching you and what have you been learning?" Remus Lupin was nothing like his kind, even-tempered self at the moment.

Guilt flooded Harry's senses. "Well, after that happened, Voldemort was Occluding against me so..." Harry glanced up at the Headmaster who was, for once, looking sheepish.

Remus' eyes darted back and forth between the two of them. "So you just decided never to take it up again? It never occurred to you that this might be something that you needed to know, that Voldemort could decide at _any time_ to stop Occluding and reach into your mind again?!" Remus had shouted that last part and Harry jumped a bit.

Remus shook his head, seeing Harry was visibly startled when he shouted at him, remembering the long day he had yesterday. "I'm sorry, Harry. I shouldn't have shouted at you. But this was incredibly foolish of you. I know that you and Severus had a bad experience in your fifth year regarding your Occlumency lessons but surely you went back to him? You did ask that he teach you again?" Remus looked at Harry as if he already knew the answer.

Harry just stuttered a bit and looked to Dumbledore--

Who was looking very contrite at the moment. "I'm afraid the fault was mine, Remus. After that unfortunate incident last year, Voldemort began to consciously block Harry. When that happened, I decided, on my own, that any further Occlumency lessons were simply an unwarranted stress on both the student and the teacher."

Harry had never seen Remus look at Dumbledore the way he was now. Remus was usually a very soft spoken, even tempered person, but at the moment he seemed to be holding back a very potent rage.

Remus took a deep breath and lowered his eyes for a moment, obviously trying to get a hold of himself. Then he looked up at the Headmaster again, "Severus really should begin to teach Harry again, Albus. It's not safe, Voldemort knowing every time he walks into a room." Turning to Harry suddenly he asked, "How did you even manage to avoid capture?"

Harry shrugged and said, "Easily enough. Once Voldemort knew I was there, he told everyone to search the house for me." Harry's face scrunched up a bit as he turned to the Headmaster and said, "He seemed happy with Snape that I was there. It was like my being there was proof that Snape had some sort of hold on me, like he wanted."

Dumbledore smiled a bit and said, "Yes, well, apparently Voldemort wants Severus to get close to you. In his mind, that would be an easy enough feat for a man as cunning as our Severus, especially after the day you experienced together."

Harry nodded; that had been his understanding as well. "That's really all that happened. We apparated out and met Remus."

"So Severus should be relatively safe from Voldemort's wrath. He escaped his torture at the hands of his Death Eaters but if his new mission is to ensure a... friendship with you, so to speak, then you rescuing him is a good sign." Dumbledore gave a relieved smiled that made Harry exhale a breath he didn't realize he had been holding.

"Well, that's good news at least. Severus was so frightened that his cover may have been blown. He'll be very happy to know that he's still welcome back in the fold," Dumbledore said, his voice a mixture of relief and sadness at the thought of sending the man back into that nest of serpents.

Harry frowned. He knew now why Snape spied on Voldemort but that didn't make it any easier to accept.

"As to resuming your Occlumency lessons, I will be sure to speak to Severus about that as soon as he is able." Harry nodded and looked over to Remus, who seemed to visibly relax and lean back in his chair.

Dumbledore straightened himself behind his desk and moved on, "Now, Harry, I did receive your letter last night and I must say you have one very enthusiastic owl." Dumbledore smiled and rubbed his hand a bit. "As much as it pains me, Harry, I do not think it very wise for you to attend your friend's funeral. I realize that this must be difficult for you to hear, my boy, but please understand..."

"No." For a moment Harry thought the word had come from his own mouth but realized, belatedly, that it had come from the man sitting next to him.

Remus looked up at the Headmaster, "Harry needs to go to the funeral, Albus. He was his best friend. If he doesn't get this chance to say goodbye, it'll eat him up inside." Remus' usual kind gaze was cold and his voice would accept no argument.

"I could go as his guard," he paused to look over at Harry, "I think it's worth the risk. Harry should be there, it wouldn't be right to stop him."

Dumbledore was surprised. Remus had never taken sides against him before, even where Harry was concerned. He took in the two men in front of him. Remembering Severus' words from the day before, he wondered what it would do to the boy to miss out on saying goodbye to his oldest friend. He really didn't see how it was possible.

"I found polyjuice in Severus' stores last night," Remus said suddenly with a small smirk on his face that seemed completely out of place.

Dumbledore thought about this for a moment and then looked at Harry. His eyes were still red-rimmed from the sobbing he had witnessed earlier but his gaze was steeled. He really had no desire to hurt the young man in front of him and he especially didn't look forward to the fight that would follow going against the two men. Briefly, he looked over to the chessboard still sitting on his desk. Yes, things certainly had changed, he thought.

Thinking about the conversation he had just had moments ago with the young man in front of him, he came to a decision quickly. He sighed and said, "Harry can attend, as long as he takes the polyjuice and has his own guard," Dumbledore said to Harry, happy to see the young man's face take on a small smile.

The Headmaster turned to face Remus, "The rest of the Order will, naturally, be in attendance and will aid you, in your protecting Harry, Remus." He turned back to Harry, "The funeral is planned for tomorrow morning. After that, I imagine your presence will be requested for a small meal at the Burrow. I assume you'll wish to attend that as well?"

Harry blinked and couldn't respond. Thoughts of the Burrow and how happy he was every time he visited suddenly became visions of going to the little cemetery in Ottery St. Catchpole and putting Ron in the cold earth. He couldn't imagine sitting down to a Weasley family meal with Ron not being there. What if the Weasleys did blame him? He'd always been so welcome among the Weasleys, if they were to turn him away now he didn't know if he could recover.

"Harry?" Remus was looking at him with a pensive look on his face.

Harry nodded, finding his throat too closed off to speak. Both men in the room gave him a moment to collect himself. He met their eyes in a silent gesture that he was ready for the conversation to resume. He had no desire to cry for his friend in front of the headmaster. Despite the conversation that had just taken place, it was still too private.

"Now that that's settled..." Whatever subject Dumbledore was about to move on to was lost as a knock sounded on the door and Professor McGonagall walked into the room.

"Good morning, Remus, Harry;" and she lightly touched Harry on his shoulder, the gentle touch and use of his given name the only acknowledgments the stoic Scottish woman would be wont to give to his recent loss. "Albus, Draco Malfoy is in the Great Hall."

The silence in the room was deafening for a moment. Harry and Remus glanced at each other, the only movement in the sudden stillness, both instantly on their guard.

The Headmaster reacted differently. He rose from his seat.

"Very well, Minerva. Ask him to come up to my office and I will speak with him."

McGonagall coughed a bit as she said, "Albus," her voice was tense as she continued, "He's asking to speak with Mr. Potter."

* * *

Harry Potter quickly descended the stairs that led from the headmaster's office to the Great Hall. In his anger, he might have been tempted to run the distance but he didn't want to greet Voldemort's latest Death Eater and the son of the man who had murdered his best friend with flushed cheeks. It also would have made it difficult for Remus to keep up with him. The man was having a difficult time walking with the invisibility cloak hanging over his head.

He turned onto the hallway that lead directly to the Great Hall and paused to catch his breath. He had no idea what to expect from this conversation with Draco but he doubted very much that anything good would come from it. The headmaster seemed happy to discover Malfoy at Hogwarts, but Harry was less optimistic. Draco may have wanted to spare Snape but that didn't mean he was changing sides.

He turned to walk into the Great Hall. Draco Malfoy was standing idly in the center, between the tables. He was wearing very finely tailored gray robes and black dragon skin boots. The robes were tapered to conform to his movements the way his father's had yesterday on the platform.

Draco turned to greet him, "Potter."

Harry was very conscious of the fact that he looked like an urchin compared to Draco. Though his shirt and jeans had been cleaned by the charm he had cast, that didn't make up for the fact that he'd worn them for two days now. His messy hair was a stark contrast to Draco's sleekness.

As this thought occurred to him, he also realized that it didn't bother him in the slightest. He was used to being polar opposites to Malfoy and he'd wear that description gladly.

"Malfoy."

The two young men glared at each other, neither wanting to back down first. Well, Harry thought, Draco called this meeting, he'd be the one to start it.

Malfoy ended his death glare, lifted his arm and made to draw something from within the folds of his robe.

Harry immediately had his wand out and he could hear a small movement coming from about three feet to his right.

Malfoy put his hands in plain sight and and slowly opened the fold of his robe, withdrawing a wand and holding it in the palm of his hand.

Harry eyed it curiously until Malfoy rolled his eyes and said in an exasperated voice, "Snape's wand."

Before he could even think about what the proper reaction would be, Harry had snatched it from Draco's hand like it was a holy relic being desecrated by a heathen. He held it in his hand, unwilling to put it in his pocket quite yet.

Malfoy gave him an odd look at the action but instead of addressing it, said, "I heard you visited Riddle Manor last night."

Harry worked very hard to make his face as passive as possible. He wanted to call him a liar but Draco might not realize how he came to know that Snape was being tortured.

"You heard I visited Riddle Manor? Who told you that?"

Draco sneered, the gesture looking horrid on his young face. "You know who told me, Potter. Don't tell me you're actually as stupid as you look."

There was a time when Harry would have lashed back at that comment, but after yesterday, he knew he had to keep his temper while around an enemy. Draco may have given back Snape's wand, but that didn't change his allegiances.

Harry still had nothing to say to Draco but it seemed unlikely that he had called for Harry just to give back Snape's wand.

Malfoy's eyes flitted around the room for a moment before he asked softly, "Do you know what Snape's orders are?"

Harry forced himself to pause and consider before he answered. To say yes might mean that he'd been privy to the conversation he'd seen in his vision prior to his arrival or he could claim to have heard Voldemort express his pleasure with Snape as he was coming into the throne room. He could tell that Malfoy had something he wanted to tell him, so he decided to go with the latter.

"I heard something as I was leaving. Why?" he answered lightly.

Draco seemed to have noticed a difference in Harry's demeanor. Harry wasn't arguing with him or taking his bait. He seemed to lose his train of thought as he tried to keep control of the conversation, "So you heard that Snape's supposed to get you to trust him?"

Harry nodded lightly, not committing himself to anything. He could tell that Draco was nearing the end of his rope.

"Quit the quiet act, Potter. I'm here because Snape almost died last night and his newest assignment involves you. I know you've always hated him and I'm not going to see him die before the Dark Lord because you've decided he isn't worth saving," Draco's even voice finally broke as he yelled.

Harry couldn't help himself, he said snidely, "And why do you care so much, Malfoy? I didn't see you rushing to his defense from your own father yesterday on the train. You know Lucius was trying to kill him." _He was aiming for him when he hit Ron_ was on the tip of his tongue but he stopped himself. Any mention of Ron would break him, he knew.

For the first time, Draco lowered his gaze, "I know. And I'm sorry for what happened, Potter. I didn't like Weasley, but I didn't want him dead."

_Liar._

Just the mention of Ron's name put Harry in a rage. He fought against all his instincts in order to calm himself; he couldn't afford to lose his temper now. He nodded, accepting the petty condolences.

"Look, Potter, the reason I came here was to make sure you were going to follow through with Snape. He almost died last night."

"Once again, Malfoy, tell me why you care so much," Harry repeated. Harry knew that Draco had probably witnessed the entire scene on the platform yesterday, he knew that Snape had saved his life. He had said so much in front of Voldemort. Why was he here now, when last night he had obviously believed that Harry would do whatever he could to save Snape?

"None of your business, Potter," Draco said through his teeth.

"Oh, I think it's my business, Malfoy. Why the sudden concern about Snape?"

Something like rage, but not quite, passed through Draco's eyes. "For reasons you'd never understand, Potter. You don't know him like I do, you have no idea who he really is."

Harry wanted to shout,_ and you do?_ but stopped himself. Draco almost sounded like he was in love with him or something. "Have quite the crush, do you?"

The verbal sparing came to a peak at that point. Harry had hit some nerve in Malfoy he hadn't even known was there, "A crush? Little half-blood boys like you have crushes, Potter. I'm in love with that man and he will be mine some day. So I have a vested interested in seeing him survive this and I'll not see him die because of you!"

Harry was shocked but tried not to show it. Malfoy was in love with Snape? The thought of Snape and Malfoy together was just ... wrong on so many levels. He couldn't even begin to contemplate it and he seriously doubted that the long-suffering Snape would willing endure Draco's prima donna tendencies. The idea was absurd.

There was no way Snape would ever fall for someone like Malfoy.

He realized he'd been quiet for too long and said, "Rest assured, Malfoy, I have no desire to see Snape die. He did, after all, save my life after your Death Eater friends tried to kill me."

Draco seethed, "I don't know what you think you know, Potter, but I'm not a Death Eater."

_Liar_.

Harry just nodded. For all he knew, everything that came out of Malfoy's mouth was a lie.

As though Draco had heard Harry's exclamation, he thrust out his left arm and pulled back the elegant gray robes. The flesh that was revealed was white and unmarred.

Harry said nothing; he simply looked down at the underside of Malfoy's unblemished forearm. Everything about Draco was a lie, even the unmarked flesh of his body.

"Look, Potter, I need to know. I can't be here during the summer and with my father..." Draco trailed off for a moment. "I need to know that I can count on you on this one thing; that you'll help him, protect him while I can't."

Harry silenced a scoff. Harry would protect Snape alright, but from bastards like Draco Malfoy. He had witnessed Draco fold like the coward he was when the Death Eaters descended on Snape. He'd quieted his protests as soon as his father asked him to and when Harry had arrived to see Snape so badly tortured, Draco was standing by watching. The nerve of the little ferret to come here and tell Harry to take care of Snape, after Harry had rescued him while Draco looked on.

Harry looked down as he noticed movement.

Draco was offering him his hand.

And just like that, the grief struck yet again. He remembered the same person in front of him offering him his hand and mocking his new friend for his red hair and second hand robes. Everything in his being was screaming at him to spit on it and run. He owed it to Ron, after the elder Malfoy had murdered him yesterday.

He stopped himself. He could hear something, almost like a whisper, in his ear. It wasn't audible, he knew he wasn't going crazy. It was almost like a feeling that said clearly, _Take his hand_.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up and he felt that cold grip around his neck, as he remembered Snape's words on the train yesterday;_ "That cold, dark feeling that overtakes you, that's Fate."_

Slowly he felt his hand descend the small distance and briefly grip Draco Malfoy's hand. The other wizard smiled but said nothing. He nodded, turned on his heel and walked out of the Great Hall.

Harry waited until the doors closed, then counted the amount of time he knew it would take Draco to get to the main doors to the entrance hall and open and close them.

Then he looked down on his hand as if it had betrayed him. He couldn't help himself, he just started weeping.

Remus immediately removed the invisibility cloak and pulled him close, as Harry sank down on his knees.

The older man didn't say a word, he merely held Harry as his body shook with the force of his grief, content to give comfort as simply as he could. There were no words that would do any better at this moment.

Abruptly, Harry got to his feet, shook off a very bewildered Remus and ran for the nearest exit. Remus trailed after him, not wanting to let the young man out of his sight.

Harry ran to the nearest bathroom and began washing his hand furiously. He couldn't explain it to Remus hell, he couldn't explain to himself-- what had made him take Malfoy's hand? It may have been the smart move, but he couldn't help but feel he'd betrayed his friend. Just touching Malfoy's hand had made his own feel filthy. Malfoy's hands were dirty and bloodied and Harry had touched them!

Remus just stood next to him, silently, not wanting to risk touching him. His mere presence was a reassurance to Harry.

After about ten minutes, Harry splashed some water in his face and began to calm himself. Remus spoke for the first time since they had left the headmaster's office, "You had to do it, Harry. If Draco is a Death Eater, there's no telling what information he would be willing to give us if it means saving Severus' life."

He didn't mention Ron's name. He didn't have to. Harry heard his silent plea all the same; _'Ron would have understood.'_

Maybe he would have. But he wasn't here to make the decision, so it didn't really matter much to Harry.

"We should go report back to the Headmaster," Remus said softly.

Harry shook his head, the ends of his hair shaggy and wet. "No. You go. I'm going to the quidditch pitch." With that, he walked out of the washroom and through the hallway, out the doors of the front entrance, Remus following behind him.

Remus watched silently as Harry went to the school broom shed, picked out an old Cleansweep model broom and took to the sky.

He kept his eyes on Harry as he cast his patronus for the second time that day, this time letting Dumbledore know that they were alright, that Draco had left and that they were on the pitch.

Remus walked over the stands, all the time watching Harry, making sure he'd come to no harm as he gave this aerial memorial to his fallen friend.

He sat in the stands for a long time. Harry would come down every few hours to rest and sit next to Remus in silence before taking to the sky again, flying fast even on the older model broom.

It was only when the sun went down in the cool of the evening that Harry finally descended from the skies and felt as though he had shaken the filth from himself. Remus stood up in the stands to meet him, still silent, as they began to walk back to Hogwarts together.


	9. Discussions on Matters of Consequence

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I make any money from this story.

A/N: Thank you to all who have reviewed and sent your wonderful compliments and criticisms my way. Thanks to my beta reader Laurenke1 for a plot read and to Torina Archelda, who once again put in hours to give this chapter a great grammar and plot wash. Snape had a few lines in this chapter that were very difficult to nail down and she helped admirably. I'm sorry for being slower to update but the chapters have been doubled in size so I hope that makes up for it. Please let me know if you're enjoying the story. It's so much fun to write.

* * *

Harry Potter and Remus Lupin approached the entrance to the gates of Hogwarts together, still walking in silence. Remus was hesitant to break it as he led the younger man to the Great Hall where dinner was no doubt being served. They had both missed lunch and a piece of chocolate was no substitute for a good meal.

Harry stopped abruptly, as the door to the Great Hall opened, revealing Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall and Hagrid sitting together, talking softly to themselves. The atmosphere of the hall was awkward, and though Harry knew Snape would have mocked him for feeling this way, he knew it was because of him.

_All that is going on around you actually has nothing to with _you_, Harry_.

As he halted, he pulled Remus' sleeve and shook his head as the man turned to look at him. "I can't go in there, Remus. Not right now."

Remus took in the young man in front of him. His face was pale and filthy with streaks of tears making tracks in the dirt. His clothes were drenched in sweat and sticking to him. He was still shaking slightly, undoubtedly from both the physical exertion and the emotional turmoil of the last day.

The older man found that he couldn't deny him this small request. "Alright, Harry. Would you like to go to my room to clean up?"

Harry shook his head and edged away from the door to the Great Hall, "No, not really. I'd...um... well, I'd like to check on Snape actually. I haven't been in to see him since I left in the morning."

Harry looked incredibly nervous for a young man who only wanted to visit his professor. Remus couldn't help but think that this was the second time Harry had chosen to be with Severus of his own free will.

But again, Remus could see no reason to deny him and besides, he really wasn't in charge of Harry. He was with him now because he knew what the silence that came after death felt like and he would not have Harry suffer that like he had. Smiling, he told Harry, "Alright, then. Let's go pay Severus a visit."

* * *

As soon as the two men walked into the infirmary, Harry was almost instantly by Severus' side. He sat down at the chair that still sat beside the unconscious Potions Master and seemed to observe him quietly.

Remus came up behind him and viewed the man on the bed. He was still asleep, his skin more pale than normal. There was a light scar from his cheek to his chin where Remus had apparently not been quick enough to heal the cursed wound to prevent it from scarring.

Except for his pallid complexion, Severus looked much as he usually did. Seeing that Harry was lost in thought, he turned to the sound of a door opening and saw Poppy Pomfrey exiting her office.

"Ah, I thought I'd see the two of you this evening." She had smiled as she saw Remus but her face fell as Harry turned his head from his view of the bed. He really did look awful, Remus thought.

Intentionally toning down her cheery tone, she asked Harry, "And how are you this evening, Mr. Potter?"

Harry nodded to her and gave a smile that was obviously forced. "I'm fine, thank you, Madam."

Remus could see several bottles in Poppy's hands and wanted to speak to the mediwitch alone for a moment.

"Harry why don't you use the facilities to clean up a bit? I'm sure Poppy won't mind, would you, Poppy?"

Poppy shook her head and said, "Not at all. There are some nightclothes in the drawers that you can use, if you'd like." She pointed towards the door that Remus knew to be the washroom and Harry nodded and stood up.

He waited until the door was shut before he asked, "How is he, Poppy?"

Poppy gave a soft smile and walked over to Snape's bedside. "He's on the mend. I was very frightened that Albus hadn't arrived in time, but it seems his prognosis from yesterday will ring true. It will be a month or two before he's back to his normal self, but I have every reason to believe he'll make a full recovery."

Remus let out the breath he had been holding, happy to hear the mediwitch's words. "Thank Merlin. Poor Severus has suffered too much in this war already."

Poppy nodded and administered a potion to Snape, completely at ease with opening the wizard's mouth and massaging his throat to aid his swallowing.

Remus cleared his throat and with no small sense of hesitation said, "I have a feeling Harry will be wanting to stay here again tonight."

Poppy nodded. "I thought as much. It does seem odd that after years of nothing but venom between them the boy would take such an interest in our Severus." She finished administering the potions and turned to Remus, looking as though she had something to say but not wanting to say it.

Remus relieved her of the responsibility. "Is something wrong, Poppy?"

Poppy shook her head. "Wrong? No. Something odd I saw last night. I wouldn't bring it up actually, but seeing as you are close to Mr. Potter..."

"Did something happen?"

"No, not really." Poppy walked around to wear Remus was standing to address him directly. "The charms that alter me to Severus' condition went off last night, but he wasn't in any pain. I didn't know what was wrong, so I came out to the main ward and saw Harry Potter leaning over his bed, holding his hand. It was an odd sight to see, indeed."

Remus' eyebrows lifted a bit, as he said, "Well, that was certainly kind of him. After the day he experienced yesterday, I wouldn't doubt Harry's desire to see that Severus was alright. Was he troubled in his sleep?"

"He seemed fine, actually. I told Mr. Potter he shouldn't be taking such liberties with the man when he wasn't able to voice an objection, but when he tried to release Severus' hand, he held onto it. I'm not entirely sure he knew whose hand he was holding."

Remus let out a small laugh, hiding his confusion. "Well, after what happened last night, I would be surprised if even a man such as Severus wouldn't want some form of human comfort. He can try to deny it as much as he wants but he is flesh and blood."

Poppy nodded, but did not seem to completely agree.

Remus didn't either.

"Well, will you be going back to your room for the evening?"

"No, I think I'll let Harry get some sleep, take over night duty."

At Poppy's frown, he said, "He knows that the castle is safe, but I think he'd feel better if someone was here. I don't think he wants to be alone right now."

Poppy nodded, and said, "Well, I'll have a few trays brought up for dinner, then. I have to go to my office to prepare something for Severus. I don't want him to be awake for very long, should he wake at all. This is a mild sleeping potion and should put him right out." She handed Remus a small bottle.

Remus nodded as the mediwitch took her leave and stepped into her office.

Harry was still in the shower a few minutes later when two dinner trays appeared. Not wanting to be rude, Remus ignored his hunger and went to sit at the unconscious man's bedside.

He studied the man's face in his sleep. His features seemed a bit more twisted than they had been moments ago. Remus leaned back in his chair, unwilling to risk startling the man should he wake suddenly.

Not a minute later, black eyes opened slowly and blinked, the light from the infirmary no doubt harsh on them.

Severus seemed to take a moment to adjust to his surroundings and took in the man at his bedside. A look of surprise and slight disappointment ran across his face.

"Lupin?" The man's voice was still hoarse from last night's screaming.

"Severus." Remus leaned a little closer to the Potions Master and said, "How are you feeling?"

Snape made an effort to roll his eyes, but it seemed like even that movement gave a burst of excruciating pain. "Like my bones were set on fire. Where's Potter? He was here?"

Remus seemed to sense the question in that last statement and nodded. "Cleaning up. He's had quite a rough few days. Do you remember what happened?"

Snape shook his head minutely before seeming to realize what an awful idea that was. "No. I remember what happened after my summons and being questioned a bit harshly by the Dark Lord before he gave me over as a play thing to his most enthusiastic Death Eaters." Severus paused to catch his breath. "The last thing I can recall is Lucius casting that dark curse. How did the Order know what had happened?"

Remus looked over to the washroom where Harry was still bathing. Not especially wanting to talk about him when he wasn't there, he weighed his answer carefully.

"Harry had a vision, Severus."

Snape raised an eyebrow, obviously not liking where this conversation was going. "A vision? It was my understanding that the Dark Lord is Occluding him and has been since that unfortunate incident last year." If he sneered a bit at the word 'unfortunate,' Remus was gracious enough not to call attention to it.

"Yes, I only learned that today myself. Nevertheless, Harry did have a vision. He witnessed your torture by Voldemort and he saw you being handed over to Lucius Malfoy." Remus paused, not looking forward to the explosion he knew was on the horizon.

Snape seemed to sense his hesitance, and not one to settle for any type of hypocrisy, pressed Remus on; "And he then gave everyone in his immediate vicinity a cardiac arrest from the shock of doing the sensible thing, meaning he informed the headmaster and the Order, whose collaborative efforts managed to liberate me from what was surely certain death." It wasn't really a question, Remus noticed.

Remus gave a small grin.

"That would be a bit out of character for Harry, now wouldn't it?" Remus met Snape's eyes as they darkened and the man's mood visibly changed. How odd that a man who was on his back in the hospital wing and could barely move could still make his rage so well known.

"That reckless brat..." Snape whispered the statement maliciously. "How?"

"It's not my story to tell, Severus. Suffice to say that Harry saw that you were in mortal peril and rescued you, singlehandedly. He brought you back to Hogsmeade, where I met him with a portkey to the hospital wing. You've been unconscious for a day and night."

Remus knew he shouldn't be the one to inform Severus as to his condition and was hesitant to bring it up. He was rescued from what was sure to have been a bumbling attempt at kindness and consolation when Snape asked, "How long was I under the curse?"

"From Harry's estimate, a little less than half an hour."

Snape closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Remus knew what he was thinking.

Nerve damage. It wasn't untreatable but he would be out of action for a while. He should consider himself very fortunate. Another ten minutes and the damage to his nervous system would have been permanent and his brain functions would have been affected.

"Severus," Remus began hesitantly. The man looked up to meet Remus' eyes. "What exactly has happened between you and Harry in the last day?"

For a moment Severus seemed to pale even further, which Remus would have thought was impossible. The slight hesitancy coming from Severus was an odd thing to see. In any normal circumstance, he would have barked out an answer already and denied any change of feeling between himself and the boy he had so hated.

Then the man seemed to relax, whatever had been troubling him seeming to fade away in an instant.

"Potter and I had a... discussion on the train ride to his relatives' home," Severus said after being silent for only a moment. "I am not at liberty to divulge all that was said. Suffice to say that we came to a certain understanding."

Remus nodded. "He's been very concerned about you. He wouldn't let you out of his sight last night. He held vigil by your bedside, from what I understand. He would have been here all day if..." Remus trailed off.

Snape grew suspicious. "If what?"

Remus smiled softly. "I think I'll let Harry tell you that later, as well. Quite a lot has happened in the last twenty hours or so that you've been asleep."

"Obviously," Snape sneered a bit, traces of his lethal sarcasm leaking onto his tired features.

Remus chuckled a bit, then sobered quickly. "Severus... I know that you don't especially like Harry, but his attitude towards you seems to have changed. He's going through a very difficult time right now and I'd appreciate it if you didn't try to intentionally hurt him. We both know your tongue can cut through flesh when you put your mind to it."

At first, that comment seemed to draw a rage from Snape and Remus instantly regretted having said it. He knew very well both from his time as a professor here as well as from talking with Harry, that his relationship with Severus was strained at the best of times. However, Remus belatedly realized that perhaps Harry's feelings weren't the only ones that changed in the last day and a half.

"I'm sorry, Severus, I should not have assumed--" Remus began to speak, but was cut off.

With his most condescending tone Severus replied, "Contrary to popular belief, Lupin, I am not a completely heartless bastard. I will not kick the boy while he's down. There's enough history of grief in this room for the lives of ten men. I'll not add to his burdens."

Lupin nodded, his head tilted down at an angle at Snape's words. "I didn't really think you would, Severus," he whispered.

Both men heard as the water in the washroom was turned off and sounds of shuffling could be heard from within.

"Harry should be here in a moment. Would you like to speak with him now or wait until morning? I have a mild sleeping potion..."

Remus didn't get to finish his sentence before Snape interrupted, "The potion, now, if you please."

Lupin raised an eyebrow but uncorked the potion and made to put it in Snape's hand before thinking better of it and tipped it in the man's mouth before he could make a protest.

Snape's eyelids immediately began to fall shut, just as Harry opened the door and exited the washroom.

* * *

The darkness in the infirmary was once again augmented only by the light of the moon in the dark of night. Snape woke slowly, shifting a bit in his bed in an effort to test the strength of his limbs. He groaned a bit too loudly when he shifted his back and felt like a small fire was lit underneath him.

His sound of displeasure must have woken the person sleeping next to him. The figure shifted in his bed and sat up. Reaching for something on the stand next to the bed, Harry Potter put on his glasses and picked up his wand and said, "Lumos."

Snape closed his eyes to the small light coming from Harry's wand. Conscious of the fact that they were surely not the only two in the room, he grumbled, "Put out that light, Potter, or you'll have Lupin swarming over me like a vulture over a carcass."

Sure enough, turning his head minutely, he saw Lupin asleep in a bed, slightly farther away than Harry's. He was sleeping on his back, but almost in a sitting position, his wand in his hand. He had probably done that for Harry's sake, Snape realized. Hogwarts was one of the few places in the world where one could sleep almost peacefully, even in times such as these.

Harry put out the light and rose, coming around the foot of his bed to sit at his side as he had last night.

The anger Snape had felt earlier at the idiotic risk Harry had taken to save his life came back in a rush to his senses. He was awake and coherent enough to disabuse the notion that Harry should ever put himself in danger ever again for anyone, least of all himself. After all the times he had risked his own life to save Harry's, he could not fathom how the young man would go and do something so foolish that would more likely than not get him killed.

Turning his head and opening his mouth to berate the younger man, something happened, yet again, to Snape that he had never before experienced.

In his few waking thoughts between then and now, he had tried to convince himself that the events of last night were a fluke, and that the loving touch of Harry's hand on his was nothing more than pity and guilt after a long, shared, horrid day. Surely the pain and the potions that had been poured down his throat in an effort to numb it were to blame for his emotional stupidity. The memory of that hand's gentle touch must have been augmented by his own near death experience and the thoughts of Lily that had been on his mind all day.

Looking up at Harry now, his breath caught in his throat and he was struck speechless for the first time in memory as he realized how wrong he was.

Harry looked exactly the way he had last night, save for the foggy haze that had surrounded him. Gone was the boy he had seen only days ago. In his place was a very handsome young man, his face beautiful in its grief that had no doubt aided in his recent maturity. His eyes were looking straight at Snape's and he recalled thinking yesterday that those eyes had seemed to burrow into him.

He cursed himself for his sentimentality but could not look away. He had always been wary of lies of the flesh. A person could lie not only with their words but also their body. He searched Harry's expression but could not find any falsehood. The look Harry was giving him wasn't pity; Harry was looking at him as though he was the most important person in the world.

"I have something of yours," Harry said. He hesitantly stood up and pulled something out of the back pocket of his jeans. Slowly extending his hand, he revealed Snape's own wand that had been taken from him soon after he had answered the Dark Lord's summons.

Relief spread over him as he looked at the familiar wand in Harry's hand. When it had been taken from him, he'd had the horrible feeling that he would never see it again. He'd had that wand since he was eleven years old, when Mr. Olivander had first put it in his hand. 'Ash, dragon heartstring core, twelve and a half inches. Sturdy and good for hexes.' He had smiled when he'd first heard that.

Slowly, he raised his right hand to take the wand from Harry. The tremors shook his hand violently, the nerve damage the curse had wrought on him becoming apparent to both men. For a moment he contemplated putting his hand down, not wanting to appear weak in front of the man who had shown such courage for his sake, but he knew that of his many faults, he was not a coward.

He hadn't meant to touch Harry at all but as he took the wand from him, his fingers touched his palm briefly and the warmth that spread through him at that simple touch both shocked and disturbed him. He had never had such a reaction simply from touching the palm of another man's hand.

If Harry had felt his amazement, he didn't show it. He gripped the ash in his hand and felt it sing softly for him. Content in that moment, he allowed himself to relax briefly. Though he knew he was safe at Hogwarts, he had never been without his wand for so long. He had missed it like he would have missed his arm and silently rejoiced at having it back again.

"Thank you, Potter," was all he said to the younger man as he rested his now tired arm, still firmly holding onto his wand.

Pushing aside his desire to ask about Harry's reckless rescue of his person, he asked something that was more pressing to him at the moment. "How did you manage to acquire this?"

Harry lowered his eyes and ran his hand through his hair. Snape was beginning to notice this as something he did when nervous. He seemed to steel himself as he raised his gaze to Snape and said, "Draco Malfoy gave it to me."

Mention of the youngest Malfoy brought a scowl to Snape's face as he tried to put his mind around what Harry had just told him. There was no way either Lupin or Dumbledore would have allowed Harry to leave the wards that made Hogwarts the most fortified castle in all of Britain. That must have meant that Draco had brought the wand to him.

"He was here?" Snape questioned.

Harry nodded.

Something must have happened; Harry was nervous and agitated as he sat in the chair next to him. Lupin had said something to this effect and so Snape asked, "What happened?"

Harry sighed and said, "I was with Remus and the headmaster in his office when Professor McGonagall came to tell me that Malfoy was in the Great Hall and wanted to meet with me." He paused and took a deep breath, obviously preparing himself to tell whatever came next.

"He gave me your wand and he asked me if I knew what assignment Voldemort gave you."

Snape once again inwardly seethed at hearing his old master's name but decided, again, to say nothing to this. "What did you tell him?"

Harry gulped audibly. Looking down at his feet, he said, "I didn't want to reveal anything he didn't already know, so I just said that I had heard something on my way out."

Snape gave a very weak chuckle, imagining the youngest Malfoy's face at that snide quip. "I imagine you enjoyed that, didn't you, Potter?"

He must have said the wrong thing because Harry immediately tensed. Sensing there was more to the story, Snape attempted to gloss over whatever it was he had said to hurt the young man. "What did he say after that?"

"After that we kind of talked about your... er... assignment." Harry began to twist his fingers around in his lap, looking anywhere but at Snape.

The man in question frowned. "How much did you hear?"

Harry looked at him again, "I heard that you're supposed to get close to me, get me to trust you." Harry paused and frowned a bit before he continued. "I doubt you heard, but Voldemort was pleased with you when I went to find you. He seemed to think it was a good thing that I cared enough to rescue you."

No, Snape hadn't heard that. He hadn't had the capacity for higher brain function at the time. The anger Snape had felt earlier on this subject began to come back but he quashed it for now. He needed to know what Draco had done to Harry to augment the young man's grief.

"What did Draco say, Potter? Whatever he said obviously upset you. Tell me the main point of the conversation."

Harry looked up from his lap and into Snape's eyes. "He asked me to look out for you, to help protect you," Harry's handsome face twisted as he said this, giving Snape the impression that the very idea of helping his most hated professor was something he would be loathe to do.

Snape gave a snide, dark chuckle. "What's the matter, Potter? Does the idea of befriending your greasy bastard of a Potions Master disgust you so much?"

Harry's head snapped back and his back went from hunched to completely straight in an instant. "Of course not!"

He ran a hand through his hair and stood up, as he said in a stage whisper, so as not to wake Lupin, "No, it was the nerve of that little bastard, that spineless little ferret to come to me after he stood there and watched you being tortured... He had the audacity to come here, after all of that and ask me to look out for you?!"

Harry was pacing by his bed now, his anger pouring out of him. "He was watching as they were torturing you! I saw him! He was standing there and did nothing and he has the gall to tell me to protect you. That bloody little coward!"

Harry was panting by the end of his outburst. Snape wasn't faring much better.

Frankly, he was shocked. He knew Harry well enough to know that he wouldn't let him be tortured to death, but that went for almost every other human being on the planet. The Gryffindor's heroic impulse would naturally drive him to rescue anyone. But this defense of himself was completely unexpected. Harry was genuinely angry on his behalf. Once again, the young man baffled him, just as he had on the train where he gave that unspoken forgiveness to Snape's confession of his worst sin.

Harry took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. Not looking at Snape, he whispered, "Besides, after what you told me yesterday, what kind of person would that make me if that were true, Professor?"

Once again, Snape was shocked by Harry's confession. Having no idea how to respond to such a statement and sensing that the conversation was becoming too much for the boy, as well as himself, he aimed for levity. "A sane one, Potter. No one would blame you for steering clear of my presence, I assure you."

Harry took his hands from his face and opened his mouth to reply but Snape cut him off. "What else happened, Potter? Draco's cowardice is not the only thing that upset you."

Harry paused for a moment, saying nothing. Still on his feet, he took his wand from his pocket, casting a silencing charm. Snape raised an eyebrow but said nothing. The young man ran his hands through his hair again and paced the floor near Snape's bed. Patience not being one of the man's virtues, he quickly tired of Harry's abrupt movements and spat out, "Out with it, Potter."

"I shook his hand."

As benign as that statement sounded, he could hear the disgust that was dripping from Harry's voice as he had said it. He waited for him to continue, assured that this was not the end of the matter.

He didn't have to wait long. "I don't suppose you know how I first came to meet Malfoy?"

Harry was looking at the wall behind Snape's head so he answered with a verbal, "No."

Harry put his arms around his chest and looked to the ground. He shuffled his feet and said, "I had met him once before and didn't really like him. He was being the rude little snot that he is and I just had a feeling about him. Then when I first came onto the Hogwarts Express, I sat in a compartment with Ron."

Harry's voiced broke at voicing his friend's name. He heard him breathe deeply a few times and waited a moment for him to continue.

"Ron was nice to me from the start. He knew who I was already, of course, everyone knew me. But he was nice to me. We were talking when suddenly Malfoy came into the compartment and introduced himself. Then he looked at Ron like he was seeing some kind of... peasant." Harry's breath was coming quicker now, visibly upset.

"He made fun of his hair and his robes, made Ron feel awful. He always was self-conscious about his family's problems with money..." Harry trailed off for a moment and then continued, "And then Draco extended his hand to me. Well," Harry sneered, "you can imagine what happened next."

"You refused his hand," Snape spoke softly. He quietly admired the devotion Harry had had to a boy he had barely met. His sense of right and wrong had been present early in life, it seemed.

"Yeah. So after that moment--" Harry jammed his fists together.

"You became enemies. I recall the venom between the two of you, even in that first year. I remember writing it off as typical house rivalries, but I should have known something more had occurred."

"When I first came to Hogwarts, I didn't even know about house rivalries enough to have them," Harry confessed softly. He took in another deep breath. "Well, that's what happened. But last night... you almost died. And after yesterday... if I can do something to help you, I will. And so earlier, in the Hall..." Harry trailed off.

"He extended his hand again... and this time you took it," Snape said, attempting to hide the sense of wonder and gratitude that was threatening to invade his voice.

Snape told himself that the young man had done it for the good of the Order and their cause, but something inside of him was whispering, _no, he did it for you._

For him. Harry had taken his enemy's hand for him. He had no idea how to react to this information; there was nothing in his life it was comparable to. No one had ever committed such a self-sacrificing act for himself. It was beyond comprehension.

It occurred to Snape what was tormenting Harry. He watched the boy as he stood there, visibly trembling, arms still around his torso, head down. He had taken the hand of his enemy, the son of the man who had murdered his best friend. He had done it for the good of the Order but he had also done it for Snape.

The fact that the guilt Harry was suffering was due to Potions Master was not lost on him.

As loathe as he was to offer any kind of comfort, he knew he had to at least attempt it for the young man in front of him. As much as he would like to forget about Harry's kindness towards him last night, it was currently burned into his memory. He took in the young wizard before him, seeing his obvious disgust with his actions and made the decision to act. Perhaps his words wouldn't have much of an effect on the younger man, but he would make an honest attempt.

"You did the right thing, Potter. Make no mistake, Draco Malfoy is a Death Eater. If he has some...affection for me, that only means he would be willing to give up information for my sake. Having him think you trust him was the smartest move you could have made in that situation."

Harry scoffed. "He said he was in love with you."

Snape stilled, "He said what?"

Harry looked up to face the man finally and repeated, "He said he was in love with you."

Snape's face took on a justifiable look of disgust. "That would almost be humorous if it wasn't so very disturbing."

Harry let out a gasped laugh, almost bordering on a sob. "Those were my thoughts exactly."

Snape didn't know exactly what it was Harry had laughed at. He realized that the young man was probably disgusted at the idea of anyone ever loving the former Death Eater. He was partially inclined to agree with him. The idea of anyone having feelings for him was disturbing. Some feeling that he did not recognize was taking up residence in his throat. He pushed that aside and tried to concentrate instead on the feeling of righteous indignation that his student would dare to think about his personal life, but his heart wasn't in it. The fact that he cared at all of what Harry thought surprised him.

Snape was torn between issuing a scathing retort and remaining silent. Before he could do either, Harry continued, "I mean, who in their right mind could ever love Malfoy?"

Snape blinked. Then he gave a soft laugh at the unexpected comment. Not knowing what to think about any of this, he returned to his earlier topic. "Potter." Harry's eyes met his. "Mr. Weasley would have understood. You did not betray your friend. You did what was necessary on a larger scale to see that his murder is avenged."

Harry's eyes began to tear. He lowered his head again and walked the few steps to the chair by his bedside.

"Then why does it feel like I have? Why did it feel like I was stabbing him in the back?" Harry questioned, his voice a hard whisper. "Remus was with me when it happened, he said the same thing; that it was necessary to get Malfoy to trust me so he would be willing to give us information on your behalf."

So the wolf had some cunning after all. Snape shouldn't have been as surprised as he was.

"I washed my hands for ten minutes after Malfoy left. I just couldn't believe I had actually touched him. It felt so wrong but..."

Harry paused and Snape could sense his hesitance to tell him something of import. Feeling that he wouldn't be able to be an active member of this conversation for very much longer, he prodded the young man. "But what, Potter?"

Harry looked up at him, his eyes shining with unshed tears. Words like 'beautiful' came to Snape's mind before he could properly control himself. Burying that thought and the guilt that went along with it, he focused on what Harry was saying. "Do you remember what you told me on the train? About how you felt like you were an instrument of Fate, that night?"

Snape didn't have to be reminded of the conversation or to what night Harry was referring to. He simply said, "Yes."

Harry nodded and said very slowly and with great hesitation, "I felt that... with Malfoy, in the Hall."

Snape raised an eyebrow. As much as he wanted to simply cast off what Harry was saying as melancholy dramatization of a very emotional event, he paused before criticizing him. Something in the young man's demeanor told him that Harry was very serious.

His silence must have been taken as a wish to continue. "He told me he was in love with you and he asked me again to protect you. And then he put out his hand." A single tear fell from Harry's eyes. He wiped it off and carried on, obviously trying to steel his voice.

"I was going to spit on it."

Snape stifled a laugh at that. He could imagine Malfoy's reaction to Harry's bodily fluids on his person.

"I wanted to tell him to go to hell, curse him for a coward and run him off. And I was going to but... something stopped me."

Snape's eyes met Harry's and the young man continued, "I heard, well no, not exactly heard but felt something almost in my ear, telling me to take his hand. It wasn't a voice, I know I'm not going crazy..."

He looked to Snape, as though he wanted that fact confirmed. Two days before, Snape would have enjoyed making some comment on his mental status, but he could only nod now and say, "Go on."

"The little hairs on my neck stood straight up and I could feel that thing we feel sometimes. That thing that happens whenever I let myself think about the prophecy. I could feel it, as well as I could feel any tangible, real thing. It said to take his hand."

_We feel. _

Snape was repeating that phrase Harry had spoken in his head. He'd never really felt camaraderie before this moment and Harry didn't seem disturbed to share something like this with him. He'd been alone for most of his life and a spy for half of it. It was an odd feeling to experience.

Harry was looking at him silently, obviously awaiting his opinion on what he had just told him. As much as he wanted to simply brush it off, he felt that Harry was telling him this for a reason. He doubted very much that either Lupin or Dumbledore would be privy to the information he had just heard. He also doubted that they would believe it.

But like Harry, Snape had felt that cruel choke around his neck. He'd felt it the night he had gone to the Dark Lord and he'd felt something like it several times since then. The night he had gone to Dumbledore, begging for the life of his friend, for instance. He knew without a doubt what side he was destined to be on in this war. The fact that he had started on the opposite never left his mind.

Harry was still waiting for his response. "We have no idea how what happened in the last two days will affect the war, Potter. Your actions today may very well give us an advantage that we would not have had had you acted differently. Draco Malfoy is at the center of a heinous group of individuals who would love nothing more than to kill you and the headmaster. I have no doubt that Draco is as much a Death Eater as his father, and any information he would be willing to give to you, even if it is only in the name of saving my life, would be advantageous to our cause."

"He hasn't been marked."

Snape lifted an eyebrow to that but said in a droll voice, "I'm not surprised. Unless I'm mistaken, last night was his first meeting. The headmaster would have no doubt checked him for the mark at some time in the next school year. It would not be to the Dark Lord's advantage to have his spy taken out of the game so early."

Harry nodded. His eyes were dry now and he seemed to have calmed. The slumped shoulders and weary posture he had commanded earlier had left him sometime during their conversation. Snape once again wondered how anything he said could have said would have such a positive effect on the young man.

There was silence between them for a moment and despite the control that he had taken years to perfect, Snape found himself drawn to the face of the boy who had been so kind to him. He had no idea how he was going to deal with what had occurred last night. Harry seemed to not be troubled by it at all, and why should he? As far as he knew, the young man had only been trying to offer a bit of comfort to the man who had saved his life. He had no idea the effect that he had had upon Snape, that his reaction had been so perverse. He knew that he had to hide whatever he felt away; a sin to keep at the very bottom of the darkest closet.

Pushing those thoughts out of his head was difficult, so he turned away from Harry's face. He again saw Lupin, still asleep, grasping his wand. He thought back to their earlier conversation, when Lupin had all but accused him of laying in wait, eager to verbally abuse the grief-stricken young man who had rescued him.

He inwardly seethed at the thought of the utter audacity of Remus Lupin, who had been conveniently absent from Harry's life all year, suddenly acting as the boy's guardian. Where was he when the boy was needlessly suffering the guilt that came from Black's death? Snape had been acting as the boy's protector ever since he came to Hogwarts. He alone had witnessed his descent into that numb darkness over the last ten months.

The rage that had been slowly simmering all night was suddenly brought to the forefront of his mind. Now that Harry seemed to be in a more stable mindset, he thought now was the time to address it.

"Potter," he watched as Harry's gaze once again met his. "Lupin gave me a vague description as to what occurred last night." He watched as Harry took on an open look of trepidation, as though he knew what was coming. "From what I understand, you witnessed my questioning and torture at the hand of the Dark Lord."

He paused to let Harry nod at the statement.

"You then witnessed as he gave me my new assignment; to, for lack of a better word, befriend you, make you come to trust me."

Another nod.

"You then witnessed as he gave me over as a plaything to Lucius Malfoy."

Harry shuddered a bit but nodded again.

"Did you see anything else, after that?"

Harry shook his head. "No, I woke up after that. I contacted Professor Dumbledore and asked him if he knew where you were. He told me you had gone on an errand and I knew that the vision I was seeing was real... not like last time."

Snape nodded at that, and let out a breath. He would have worried for the fate of the wizarding world if Harry had not learned his lesson about visions he received from the Dark Lord after what happened with Black. There was that, at least.

"So you decided, after speaking with the head of the Order--" the distinction from "head of the Order" and "headmaster" was not lost on Harry-- "that you would take matters into your own hands and rescue me from certain damnation without even a guard to watch your back?"

It wasn't really a question.

Harry opened his mouth to protest but before he could get one word out, Snape whispered a hiss, "What in Merlin's name were you thinking?! What do you think I've been doing all these years, if not looking out for your worthless hide, you stupid boy! Were you listening to me at any moment on the train? The loss of my life would be a mere inconvenience, whereas the loss of yours would be catastrophic. I am loathe to think that you would do something so foolish..." Snape's tirade broke off as he gasped for air, still weak from the curse.

Harry leaned over him and before he could protest, took his hand again, "Are you alright? Do you need me to get Madam Pomfrey?"

Snape couldn't think for the hand on his. Glancing over, he again saw that hand, slightly smaller than his own, wrap itself around his, holding it firmly.

He saw Harry as his eyes traveled to where his own were and he took in what he was doing. "Sorry," he said, as he let his hand go abruptly. Once again, he ached at its loss. His breath still coming in harsh gasps, he looked over at the young man who had saved his life. He knew now, without a doubt, that this wasn't something that had occurred due to some potions induced fever. He had never felt like this before for another human being, ever in his life.

Encounters with anonymous men over the years flashed before his eyes as he tried to tell himself that this thing, whatever it was, he was feeling towards Harry was the exact same thing. But even as he thought it, he knew it was a lie, and that he would be remiss to ever put Harry in a category with any of those men. This wasn't about sex, not at all. Though, the young man was beautiful, this was something Snape had never felt before and he no idea how to go about naming it.

And he wouldn't. Whatever feelings he might have for the boy were wrong, even if they weren't borne from pure desire. Any thought he had toward Harry that was even bordering on something more than platonic was reprehensible. Even ignoring the age difference and the fact that this young man was his student, there was no way he could ever seek to tarnish Harry's purity with something as dark and twisted as himself.

He once again reminded himself of why he had chosen to live life alone and that he was content with it. He had never experienced loneliness before. One couldn't miss something if one didn't believe he had the right to it.

He reaffirmed what he had told himself last night; there was no room for weakness now. He had taken advantage of the young man's kindness once, he wouldn't do it again. He had allowed himself that one moment of weakness and it was behind him. He wouldn't think on it now. Harry was his student and a good and forgiving soul. That was more than he had ever expected from the son of the people he inadvertently had killed.

Looking up again, he noticed the look of trepidation on that young face. He had been harsh in his earlier statements, but he knew he had every right to be. It wouldn't do for Harry to somehow become attached to him and take it upon himself to rescue him.

"Why, Harry? Why would you do something so utterly foolish as to put yourself in harm's way for me?"

Harry had looked very much the boy a moment ago, visibly chastised, shoulders slumped over. All traces of boyhood left his features as he straightened his back and looked him straight in the eye. "Because I hadn't received a vision from Voldemort since he started Occluding me last year. Because you saved my life that day. Because I was the only one who could have gotten past the wards and into Riddle Manor. Because I felt that same feeling I felt today in the Hall with Draco when I realized what was about to happen to you."

Such strength.

"You believe it was fated, then?" Snape asked.

Harry nodded. "How could it not be? I haven't seen one meeting, one torture or murder, nothing from Voldemort all year. He didn't want me to see what was going on, I knew that."

Snape sneered, "How did you know?"

"I just knew!" Harry shouted.

There was silence for a moment before Harry said, "Look, I didn't have a choice. I saw what was happening and after what you told me on the train, I knew I had to act. I had no choice."

Snape took a deep breath and paused for just a moment to gather his thoughts on the matter. He did not want Harry to misunderstand him.

"Listen to me, Potter. Listen well." He could see the moment when any previous anger left Harry's face as he made to listen to what Snape was about to tell him. "You always have a choice."

Harry protested, "I didn't. I couldn't have--"

"Yes, Potter," Snape interrupted. "You could have. You could have left me to die. Do not misunderstand-- and if I have not made this clear, I apologize-- but I am grateful to be alive."

Harry blinked at that.

"But you had a choice, you always have a choice. You could have left me to die. You didn't," Snape voiced before Harry could interrupt again, "but you could have. That means you had a choice. Just like you had a choice in the Hall today."

Harry quieted down again at that.

"You could have ignored the voice and spat on Draco's hand. I could have ignored it and not told the Dark Lord the prophecy or not gone to Dumbledore after the consequences of my actions had become apparent. But I chose not to, believing at the time, as you did, that I did not have a choice."

Harry asked, "But didn't you?"

Snape shook his head, his voice growing tired. "We are not animals, Potter. We have a say in our own destiny. You have a prophecy to fulfill, but that does not assure that you will live to fill it out. Do not make the mistake of thinking yourself immortal."

Harry frowned at that, "I knew the risk when I made the decision to go to you. After what happened that day... after what you told me... I knew what I had to do."

Snape shook his head, his eyelids beginning to fall, "Don't confuse Fate and inevitability. Just because something is meant to happen, doesn't mean it will. You could have easily been captured during your latest bout of nauseating heroics. You don't have to act on every foolish impulse that goes through that underused brain of yours."

"Alright, then. If I had chosen to ignore it or... I don't know... been too afraid of what could have happened --"

"A healthy sense of self-preservation is not the same as cowardice, Potter."

"Maybe," Harry said hesitantly. "But what kind of person would I be if I had done nothing? What kind of person would that make me if I could have just left you like that? Truth is, I didn't even really question what I had to do once I was sure you were there." Harry looked him straight in the eyes and said, "I mean, a man can only question himself so many times before he has to take action."

Snape closed his eyes. He could feel exhaustion threatening to claim him. "That's not a choice, Potter. That's letting circumstances do your thinking for you."

"No." Harry said, the hardness to his voice not belonging to a young man. "That's coming to a logical conclusion after you're faced with hard evidence. Why are you so angry about this? I thought you, of all people, would understand."

Snape grew angry at the assumption Harry had just made. "I of all people? Why is that, Potter? Because Fate has been so kind to me all my life?"

Harry paused and shifted his eyes from Snape's eyes to his hands. "No, but... it brought you here. And isn't that so much better than where you were before?"

Snape paused. That feeling of camaraderie, of not feeling quite so alone, returned. Having no idea how to even begin considering that question, he closed his eyes and let his fatigue take him.


	10. Requiem

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or his nifty universe and make no money from this story.

Author's Notes: I'd like to thank Laurenke1 for a plot wash of this chapter and Torina Archelda for what can only be called a grammar scrubbing as well a good plot check. Also, one lovely reviewer addressed the question of Remus and his supersonic hearing ability (or lack thereof) in the last chapter. Although this story is AU, I'm trying to keep it canon-compliant as much as possible (except for the slash, of course). There are many wonderful stories where Remus has a heightened sense of smell, hearing, etc., but I'm going with canon where Remus is a normal man who undergoes a painful transformation for two days a month. I understand the jump of logic that authors take with Remus, I just choose not to do so in my own fic. :) That being said, I hope you enjoy this chapter. Please drop me a line and let me know what you thought of it.

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"This is by far the most idiotic idea I've ever had the misfortune to hear and I loathe that I am to witness its coming to pass."

The first thing Harry was aware of the next morning was Snape's familiar irritable drawl coming from the bed next to his. His voice was still softer and more hoarse than usual, but there was no mistaking that vitriol.

"Now, Severus, I think it makes perfect sense. I'm not much of a target for the Death Eaters. I don't think it's widely known that Harry and I are close; it should be perfectly fine." The calm voice of reason coming from Remus made Harry smile a bit. He never did seem to react to Snape's sarcasm.

"I'm curious to see whose hair the headmaster will pull out of his hat for you, Lupin. If Potter's donning your flesh, then who will have the misfortune of having you walking around in their skin?"

"Well, he said he'd be here in a few minutes. I'm sure we'll find out soon enough."

Harry opened his eyes and adjusted his body in the bed before sitting up and stretching. It might have been a small reprieve, but it had been good to wake up to the sound of people talking. For once he hadn't woken up with the memory of nightmares crowding his waking thoughts.

The possibility that the peace he felt was caused by these two men specifically was not something Harry overlooked. He had often woken to the sounds of his dorm mates messing with each other, no matter how early. It had never given him the calm feeling he was experiencing now. He knew that feeling had to center around Remus and Snape.

"Good morning, Harry," Remus said, his voice somehow bright and solemn at the same time. Harry was forced to recall the event was going to happen this morning. In a few hours, he'd join the entire Weasley clan in putting Ron in the cold, dark earth. Any smile that may have been threatening his features after listening to Snape and Remus bicker died instantly. He nodded his head towards the man and said, "Good morning, Remus."

He hesitantly turned toward Snape in the bed. "Good morning, Professor."

"Potter." Snape wasn't looking at him.

"The headmaster will be here in a moment, Harry and he'll let us know the details of what's going to happen today. There's breakfast." Remus gestured to a plate of fruit and toast. Harry was glad the choices were light; he really didn't think he could stomach anything heavy just now.

He was nibbling on some toast just as the flames in the hearth flashed green and the headmaster walked out of the fire. He was carrying in his hand a large black hanging bag that Harry recognized as something one carried nicer clothing in. He was glad to learn he would be using the polyjuice potion to attend the funeral as Remus. Though irrational, he knew it would be a comfort to be his older friend through what was sure to be a horrible day.

He hoped that the headmaster had something appropriate for him for him to wear. He knew that both he and Remus had come to Hogwarts with nothing but what they were wearing.

"Ah, good morning, Remus, Harry. Severus, how are you feeling today?"

"Splendid, Albus, as is so perfectly obvious. If you'd like to wait a moment, I was about to challenge Potter to a quidditch match. After all, what good comes from having the Gryffindor star seeker present during the summer if not a good game of catch-the-snitch?"

The headmaster smiled. "Well, now I know not to worry. If you're capable of that kind of retort, Severus, I imagine you're getting along after all. I would have been very worried if you'd just insisted you were fine." Dumbledore chuckled again then turned to Harry.

"Well, I believe it's time to finalize our plans for the day. Harry, as we discussed yesterday, you and Remus will be attending the funeral under the guise of polyjuice. After much thought, I've decided that it would be best if you would attend today's event as Remus."

Today's event. The man could gloss over an elephant in the room.

Dumbledore opened the large bag and removed some dark grey, slightly old fashioned robes from its depths. He handed them to Harry and said, "I believe these will be appropriate." Putting down the bag, he reached into his robes and removed a silver flask, similar to what Harry had seen Mad-Eye Moody drink from almost constantly during his fourth year.

"All we require now is your donation, Remus." He handed Remus the flask.

Remus smiled and plucked a hair from his own head, adding it to the mixture.

Dumbledore handed Harry the flask but said, "Not quite yet, my boy. There's still the matter of Remus."

"Yes, Albus, do tell who will have the misfortune of having the wolf parade around in their clothing."

Again, Dumbledore smiled, but this time it seemed much more devious. A chill ran through Harry and, unless he was mistaken, Snape as well.

"Well, with your penchant for protecting Harry, Severus, I had thought that obvious." And with that he removed long, black robes that, although of a finer quality than those he was used to seeing the Potions Master wear, obviously belonged to him.

There was a long pause and though Snape was still lying in bed, too weak to move, everyone seemed to expect the man to somehow rise to the occasion and throttle the headmaster.

"You can't possibly be serious, Albus?! There is no way I would consent to this ridiculous farce, this blatant blasphemy committed against my person." Snape was seething on the bed, his rage still intimidating even though he was unable to rise.

"Now, Severus, I did not make this decision lightly. Voldemort does not know how long it took me to reach you the other day. If I had been more quick to arrive, you would not be in so dire a situation. For that, I am sorry, my boy."

Something like chastisement passed over Snape's face for just a moment at seeing the headmaster's guilt and Dumbledore used the short reprieve to begin speaking again. "People, and most certainly Voldemort himself, will be expecting you to be there. I assume Harry and Remus have given you a summary of what we've learned since yesterday?"

Snape muttered something under his breath. Dumbledore smiled again and pressed on.

"If you're not there, Severus, it would be a clear sign that you are not well. We still do not know the reasons for the attack on the Hogwarts Express and I would hate to put Harry or yourself in any unnecessary danger. This really is for the best."

Snape growled low in his throat. "You're forgetting one tiny detail, Albus. If Lupin uses one of my hairs, he'll be in the same condition that I'm in. The potion won't adjust for nerve damage."

His smile only growing brighter, Dumbledore reached into the bag and pulled out a flat, brown brush and examined it in the light. Finding what he was looking for, he pulled on a long hair and tugged it from where it had become lodged and added it to a second flask, this one looking more like bronze.

Harry looked to Snape on the bed. The man's face was murderous, it was a wonder that Dumbledore wasn't dead yet. He belated realized that he had given Snape back his wand last night and there was likely nothing but his inability to aim keeping the headmaster from an early grave.

"No, Albus," Snape's voice was deadly. "I will not have that man parade around in my person. Not only is there too much personal history between us, it would apparent to all in Lupin's presence that he is not who he claims to be."

Dumbledore sighed and said, "I really do wish you would put the past behind you, my boy. I do not expect you to be a friend to Remus, but I do expect an end to hostilities." The Headmaster's face darkened as he resumed, "Do you recall the last time we had this conversation, Severus?"

Harry remembered, and lowered his eyes to the floor for a moment. He turned his bowed head to Remus, who looked a bit confused but was hiding it well. Harry recalled the conversation the headmaster had between Snape and Sirius all too well. But unlike Sirius, Remus seemed to be more than glad to put past animosities aside and bem if not friends, then at the very least be friendly towards Snape.

Snape had been quiet for too long and Harry looked up. What he saw could only be described as a staring match between a very angry Snape and an equally upset headmaster. Harry had seen Dumbledore angry before, but he'd never seen it sent directly towards Snape, even at the end of this fourth year. This duel of wills was disturbing to witness to say the least.

Snape closed his eyes briefly, seeming to lose whatever contest had passed between them. When he opened them he said, "It would never work, Albus. A realm of possibility does not exist where Lupin could pass off my sunny disposition."

Remus cleared his throat and spoke up for the first time. Harry thought briefly that the man really did know when to pick his battles and when to keep his head down. "Actually, Severus, I believe I can act the part. We've known each other for over twenty years, I believe I've observed you enough to pull off a decent imitation. Plus, the event itself will require my silence. Most likely, I won't have to speak much at all."

In the ten seconds that Snape was silent, the headmaster managed to hand over both the robes and the flask to Remus, who accepted them silently.

"Harry, why don't you change first," Remus said. Harry nodded and went to the washroom.

He undressed quickly, glad to be out of the infirmary white nightclothes. Although comfortable, they always reminded him of being injured. He went to shower quickly, unlike yesterday when he had let the hot water soak into his skin for far longer than he usually did. Exiting, he examined his face and picked up his wand to perform a shaving charm that he didn't really need but then realized that it would be a moot point until he took the polyjuice potion.

It would be very odd indeed to see the nude body of his friend and so he dressed in Remus' robes before he opened the flask.

The robes were worn and of an older style but were not as tattered as the man's usual attire. He must use these for special occasions, Harry thought.

He refrained from putting on the belt to tighten the small amount of slack in his pants until he knew how they would fit. It seemed Remus not only had a few inches of height on him but he also wasn't as thin.

Putting the robes on over his grey shirt that was at least one size too large, he uncapped the flask and took a sip.

Remus tasted like mint, it seemed. His mind went back to the awful taste of Goyle in his second year and he again found himself almost overwhelmed with the thought of what was going to happen today. Knowing he'd never make it through the funeral if he didn't take control of his emotions now, he quashed the thought and tried to ignore the strange feeling of his body growing a few inches and his physique changing completely.

Once the transformation was complete his first thought was, how in the bloody hell does Remus manage to walk around all day in this kind of pain. His back and the joints were on fire. This wasn't the kind of pain that came from an injury. No, this was the kind of pain that comes from decades of abuse of the body, the changes that happened to Remus on a monthly basis coming to the forefront of Harry's mind. Taking a few steps to the door of the washroom, Harry schooled his face to impassivity as well as he could. If Remus could stand this kind of pain and not make a fuss about it, he could as well.

As he opened the door to the washroom, he heard the headmaster saying, "Really, Severus, this is for the best for all parties involved... ah, Harry. Feeling alright?"

Harry nodded and spoke, hearing Remus' voice come from his mouth, "Yes, fine, Headmaster, thank you."

Remus looked over at Harry and gave him an appraising look. "Are you really, Harry? Would you like a pain potion?"

Harry's head snapped over to the other man but before he could say anything, Snape said, "You can have one if you wish it, Potter. A mild potion won't cause a reaction with the polyjuice and I'm sure you're not used the pain that a werewolf would have to endure."

Remus didn't seem surprised to hear Snape say this and was still looking at Harry questioningly.

"No, really, I'm fine. It's not that bad, really." He looked at Remus with a pleading look on his face.

"Alright then. I'll only be a moment."

With Remus using the facilities, the headmaster turned to him. "Harry, I'm sorry to have to say this, my boy, but you will remember that you'll have to act like Remus during the funeral. The members of the Order as well as the Weasleys have been informed as to your true appearance but there will be people there that I cannot vouch for. I would love for you to be able to express your grief and comfort Miss Granger, but that will have to wait until you're back at the Weasleys' home."

Harry nodded. "I thought of that. It won't be so hard to act like Remus, really. I'm a bit more curious to see how he acts like you, Professor."

Snape scowled. "Which is precisely why this idea is so foolhardy. Even on a somber occasion such as this, I fail to see how the man will refrain from smiling or going around offering children chocolates."

Dumbledore chuckled softly. "I think Remus will do just fine, Severus. Let's not discount his abilities until we see them for ourselves."

That being Remus' cue, the door opened and Professor Snape, dungeon beast and misanthrope stalked out of the washroom with his usual long gait and a scowl on his face. If Harry had not seen it, he would never have believed it.

Once again, there was silence in the infirmary, until Remus' features twisted a bit until finally he gave up holding in a very loud laugh.

Seeing Snape laugh and smile unreservedly brought a slight sense of wonder to Harry, though mostly he wished he had a camera. It wasn't before long that he and Dumbledore were laughing a bit as well.

Snape saw what was basically his own face screwed up in laughter and looked horrified. He deadpanned, "Merlin, this is surely a sign of the apocalypse."

Dumbledore said, "Now, Severus..."

"Quickly, Albus, get a copy of the New Testament and flip to the end. I'm sure this is described in agonizing detail."

Remus laughed even louder.

"There are probably even pictures to go along with it."

Dumbledore ceased his laughing and cleared his throat, holding up a hand for Harry and Remus to do the same.

"I'm sorry, Severus, I just couldn't help it. Had to get it out of my system," Remus said through his dying laughter.

"I don't believe I've heard Severus laugh like that since he was a boy, and only once even then. I believe it was in your first year, Severus, when you somehow managed to charm Sirius' hair pink," Dumbledore said, wiping a tear from his eye.

Remus didn't have a problem getting his laughter under control after that.

"Well, now with that taken care of, I believe you'd best be on your way, gentlemen. Professor McGonagall will be going with you. I believe she's waiting for you in the Great Hall."

"You're not coming, Professor?" Harry asked. He thought that as head of the Order, Dumbledore would be sure to say a few words about Ron. He might not have been a member but his entire family was now suffering in the name of their cause.

Sadness crossed the headmaster's features. "I'm afraid not, Harry. Professor McGonagall wished to attend as Mr. Weasley's head of house and one of us must stay at Hogwarts in times like these. Also, I wouldn't want to leave Severus alone for so long."

Snape scoffed at that, the very idea of him not being able to defend himself insulting.

The headmaster turned to walk them to the door but before they stepped over the threshold, he put something in Harry's hand. "I thought these might come in handy." His blue eyes had never looked more weary as he looked directly at Harry. "I truly am sorry for your loss, Harry. I wish I could be there with you today."

Harry looked down and saw a pair of dark sunglasses in his hand. "Thank you, Headmaster."

Dumbledore nodded. "Now Harry, don't forget to refer to Professors McGonagall, Snape and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley by their given names. Remus, I have every confidence that you will do well. You must both try to act the part to the best of your abilities."

This last was directed at Remus. He really would have the harder time, Harry thought. He knew the older man would want to comfort him and be unable to.

Harry walked out the door and into the hallway, and looked back to see Dumbledore sitting by Snape's bed. The headmaster bent over and began speaking to Snape in a low tone.

Dumbledore's gaze met his and with a wave of his hand, the headmaster closed the door.

* * *

Remus, McGonagall and Harry walked out beyond the gates of Hogwarts and past the wards to apparate.

"Potter, you might want to take a sip of that potion right before we enter the graveyard. The funeral isn't likely to last longer than an hour and it won't hurt to let the doses overlap," McGonagall said in her usual brisk tone. Though she was dressed in black and seemed more somber than usual, she was acting as a member of the Order, trying protect Harry in any way she could.

Harry nodded.

Remus whispered out of the side of his mouth, in Snape's usual melodic tones, "I have to tell you, Harry, it is a relief to escape the usual pain for a little while. I had no idea Severus was in such good shape. I haven't felt this good... ever. I'm sorry if you're suffering. I managed to collect this before we left in case you changed your mind."

Remus slipped something into Harry's hand. He guessed that it was the mild pain potion that they'd been discussing. Harry shook his head and said again, "No, thank you, Remus. Really, I'm fine. Thanks though." He gave a soft smile that must have looked very familiar to the person who was seeing it.

As they reached the gates, McGonagall again addressed Harry. "If something were to happen, Potter, you would of course be encouraged to use magic to defend yourself. However, if you do not need to then do not so much as take out your wand. You may be in Mr. Lupin's body but I doubt the Ministry would know the difference."

Harry nodded as Remus took his hand. "I know where we're going, Harry. Remember, from here on out, you're me."

The dizziness that came from apparition was the next thing Harry was aware of.

Their arrival in Ottery St. Catchpole was anticlimactic to say the least. The fair weather and landscape seemed to be mocking him with their cheerfulness. The sky was blue and sunny and the grass was plentiful and green beside the deserted road on which they were standing.

"This way, Minerva," Remus said. He said this in a droll, dry tone that had not been present earlier. Harry again thought that Snape really did underestimate Remus.

Harry slipped on the sunglasses and took a drink from his flask as they passed through the iron gates of the Weasley family plot. It was across the street from an old church and was at least as large as the quidditch pitch.

He walked past headstones that looked to be a hundred years old. He paused for a moment when he passed the marker that read 'Bilius Weasley' and adjusted his glasses.

"Don't dawdle, Lupin," came the harsh voice of Snape next to him.

Under a grove of sycamore trees, he found fifty people, half of them with red hair, all crowded around a brown wooden box, next to a large hole in the earth.

Harry's throat closed up immediately and he almost stumbled on his next step. His breath became panted and he heard Snape whisper, "Not here, Harry. I'm right next to you, you can get through this. Just keep taking another step until you're there and I promise I'll be there for you afterward."

He knew the deep tones in his ear was actually Remus but even hearing his words of encouragement in Snape's voice didn't do much to stop the rush of grief at seeing Ron's coffin. He did as he Remus asked regardless, and took that next step and then another until he was standing among the group of mourners.

He could see Ron's immediate family dressed in black, along with Hermione who was standing in between Fred and George. Their red hair was almost obscenely cheerful at such an event. A steady stream of tears was pouring down Hermione's face. She looked very beautiful in that moment, Harry thought morbidly. He wondered briefly if mourning did that to women.

He looked around and noticed some of their school mates. Neville, Angelina Johnson, Katie Bell, Lee Jordan, Dean, Seamus, the Patil twins, and the entire Gryffindor quidditch team were in attendance. He heard muffled sobs and turned to see Hagrid stand in the back of the crowd with a large handkerchief in his hand.

On the opposite side were members of the Order: Moody, Tonks, Kingsley, and a few others he was less familiar with. They were all dressed in somber tones; Tonk's hair was a dull brown.

Harry was hesitant to look anywhere near the casket but he did so, with great trepidation. He couldn't really make anything out from this distance, he realized, and was almost glad for it.

They seemed to have arrived just in time because not a minute later, a man in black robes that Harry had never seen before took position at the head of Ron's casket and started speaking.

"We are gathered today to remember a very courageous young man who was taken from us all too soon." The man looked around the crowd with a straight face, and addressed them all

"Ronald Bilius Weasley was a brave, headstrong young man, always eager to help a friend and generous in all things. I've known the Weasley family for many years and had the honor of meeting young Ronald several times. I was always astounded at his good humor; his ability to laugh, even at himself. If Ronald was present, it was most certain that there were good times to be had."

Mrs. Weasley sobbed at that and wept into her handkerchief; Mr. Weasley, who already had his arm around her, held onto her tighter.

"He was also one of the bravest young men I've ever had the pleasure to meet. I can recall one Sunday afternoon when his two older brothers, Fred and George, dared him to eat some concoction that they had created in the makeshift potions lab in their room. This must have been right after the twin's first year at Hogwarts, so to say Ronald was a brave boy is quite the understatement."

The crowd chuckled through their tears. The twins smiled and put their heads down.

"The purple hair Ron sprouted was the talk of the family for years afterward. Needless to say, I don't believe Ron ever tried one of their potions again."

The younger Gryffindors in the crowd all smiled at this, a few of the girls with tears running down their faces. It was all Harry could do not to weep openly. He was glad to have something to hide the tears that were forming in his eyes.

"Ronald was a brave young man, and I do not say this lightly. Most of us here are all aware of his adventures with his school mates and his actions in the war against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. I doubt there are any here who has not heard of Ron's bravery at the battle at the Department of Mysteries. Though not even a fully trained wizard, Ron rushed headfirst into battle with his friends at his side, unwilling to leave them to face danger alone."

Harry turned at the sound of a loud sob, Hermione put her face into Fred's shoulder and she wept openly. He wished desperately that he could be next to her. He looked away and his eyes fell on Neville, who seemed lost in thought.

"Make no mistake! Cowards die many times before their deaths. Ronald Weasley was one of the bravest men I've ever had the great fortune to meet. The only proper words to give for this fallen hero are these: 'The bravest are surely those who have the clearest vision of what is before them, glory and danger alike, and yet notwithstanding, go out to meet it.' Ronald Weasley was a great wizard, who was thrust into situations that any adult wizard would have run from. But he did not. When put in a situation which would find most of us cowering under our beds in shame, he rushed in to help his friends. Let us remember Ron, and how he lived and died bravely."

"A few of Ronald's friends and family have asked to come forward to say a few words. Let us hear them and remember our fallen friend."

He stepped back from the casket and joined the crowd. Silence was pervasive as a few people shifted to allow Seamus Finnegan through the crowd and up next to where the black-robed man had been speaking.

"I'm not very good with words but I wanted to say something about Ron. He was my friend and I'll miss him. He always knew the right thing to do and he called me on it when I had done something wrong. I never told him so but I always respected him for that." The young Irishman's voice caught and he paused to clear his throat.

He turned away from the crowd and addressed the open casket. "I don't really have much else to say 'cept this: May you have food and raiment, a soft pillow for your head, may you be forty years in heaven before the devil knows you're dead." With that, he quickly walked down to stand next to the other Gryffindors he had been commiserating with earlier.

There was a pause in the proceedings as the twins seemed to communicate silently between themselves. Fred was still being used as an anchor for Hermione so George walked up to address the crowd.

Though visibly upset, George's voice was strong and steady. "My little brother wasn't perfect. He was headstrong, yeah, but he was also hotheaded. But once he knew he'd made a mistake, he did everything he could to fix it." George said this last looking directly at Harry.

"He was my brother and I'll miss him, but a part of me is glad that he went down fighting for what he believed in. He died a hero and our family will always remember that." With that, George moved back to stand next to Fred and Hermione.

There was silence for a few minutes and for a moment Harry thought the funeral had ended, but then Mr. Weasley turned to Mrs. Weasley and said something in her ear. Bill took over comforting his mother and Mr. Weasley walked up to stand next to the casket.

He looked down at the open casket and was silent for a moment. Then, without looking up, he said, "All of us here know how Ron died, but we seem hesitant to talk about it." He paused, his face turning red and his voice strained. "I suppose we're all trying to be gracious, to honor the dead. But it does not honor the dead to refrain from talking about what they died for."

He looked up, anger clear on his face. "My son was killed in the war against Voldemort. He was murdered by Lucius Malfoy, a Death Eater who has escaped from Azkaban twice now. To gloss over that fact is to ignore what Ron died for." Mr. Weasley lowered his head again as his voice broke. When he looked at the crowd a second time, there were tears in his eyes.

"My family has always been on the right side, both in this war and the last. Ron was proud of his family and of our position. We must all be cautious, and aid in the effort against Voldemort in any way we can. That is how we will honor his memory..." Mr. Weasley broke off as his grief overcame him. He retook his place next to his wife, and held her tightly.

Before Harry could even process what Mr. Weasley had said, Hermione was being ushered by Fred to the front of the crowd. She paused before she passed by the casket, not looking directly at it. Fred led her to the front, she aimed her head up towards the sky, trying to avoid looking directly at Ron's body.

Her voice was so soft Harry could hardly make it out. Her breath was coming out in broken sobs. She pulled a bit of parchment from the pocket of her robes and took a breath.

Wiping a fresh tear from her eye, she started to speak. "Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone, prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone, silence the pianos and with muffled drum bring out the coffin, let the mourners come."

She stopped to wipe her eyes with her hand and collected herself. When she spoke again, she seemed to have a better hold of her voice. As though she were forcing herself to make this tribute as well as she could, she persevered.

"Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead scribbling on the sky the message 'He is Dead.'" A sob came from her throat before she could help it and Fred rubbed her shoulder. "Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves, let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves."

"He was my North, my South, my East and West, my working week and my Sunday rest, my noon, my midnight, my talk, my song; I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong."

Tears were pouring from Harry's eyes as he listened to Hermione sob out the words that captivated the crowd of mourners.

"The stars are not wanted now; put out every one, pack up the moon and dismantle the sun, pour away the ocean and sweep up the woods; for nothing now can ever come to any good."

The siren's song that had come from her mouth over, Hermione put her face in her tissue and let Fred steer her away. She paused besides the casket but still did not turn her head before she walked on.

There was not a dry eye in the entire group of people save one. Harry noted that Remus had managed to control himself through that beautiful display of grief and his eyes were completely dry, his face emotionless.

It was all Harry could do not to collapse on the floor. He did not hear as the man in black addressed the crowd again, dismissing the crowd. The only sign of the funeral ending was the mass of about thirty people leaving to allow the family and closest friends the privacy of observing the body for a moment before he would be buried.

After Harry had seen all the Weasleys go by the casket, he heard Snape's voice in his ear, "Do you wish to pay your respects, Lupin?" It was a moment before he realized that it was Remus asking him the question. He nodded and walked forward to view the body. Before, Ron's death had seemed unreal, some nightmare he had to wake from. He was very aware that the short distance he was walking was in an effort to say goodbye to his best friend. Conscious that he was being watched, he kept his face as straight as possible as he looked down on the motionless body of his oldest friend in the world, the person who'd shared in all his adventures.

For a moment, Harry pretended that it really was Snape next to him while he stood over his friend's body. He knew it was unfair to Remus, who was standing by his side so loyally, but he had to admit that the thought of the Potions Master's presence gave a sense of peace that he could not explain. He allowed that feeling of kinship that came when he thought of Snape to wash over him for a moment and that helped him to keep control of himself and not join Hermione in open weeping.

Seeing Ron look this way seemed horribly wrong. Ron's face had never been that still and peaceful, even in sleep. He was always tossing a bit and snoring, waking Harry up with nightmares about spiders. He had no desire to remember Ron like this and so he turned away from the casket and moved to the side with the other members of the Order who had stayed.

The man in the black robes muttered a spell that lifted Ron's coffin up into the air and settled it deep in the earth. With another flick of his wand, the dirt that had been put off to the side was lifted as one solid entity and laid to rest in the large hole in the ground, leaving Ron buried underneath it.

As Hermione and Mrs. Weasley wept loudly, it was all Harry could do not to join them.

* * *

Walking up the path to the Burrow had never been a more heart breaking task for Harry. In the past, he had always come to this place with a feeling of anticipation. Not only was he able to be with his friend but he also was able to spend time with the only family that had ever really welcomed him. Molly and Arthur Weasley were wonderful parents to their children and Mrs. Weasley especially had never been afraid to shower Harry in motherly affection.

Which was why he was so apprehensive about entering the house now. Walking with the other members of the Order, with Remus at his side, did nothing to lessen the great nervousness he felt. He had no idea how he would be received at the Weasleys' home. Though Snape's confession had done a great deal to ease his conscience in dealing with Ron's death, there was no way of knowing how his relationship with his family would change.

"It'll be alright, Harry," Remus said quietly to him, his voice soft so no one else could hear.

Harry was reduced to simply nodding.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had assured them earlier that only the immediate Weasley family and a few members of the Order would be invited to lunch at the house, so there was less need to maintain the facade of his polyjuice identity. Harry couldn't really have cared less at that point. It was all he could do to put one foot in front of the other and not break down completely. He was going to Ron's house for lunch but Ron wouldn't be there. He was currently residing in that little patch of earth underneath the grove of sycamore trees.

The door to the Burrow opened as Kingsley stepped up to knock. Mr. Weasley stood there, still in his black funeral clothes and gave them a very forced smile.

"Come in, everyone. Thank you all for coming." He stood aside to allow the Order members inside. Harry was the last to enter; Remus waited by the door until he'd passed and then allowed the door to shut behind them.

"You're among friends here, gentlemen, so no need to keep up appearances. Remus, I'm glad you could be here and thank you so much for bringing Harry. I know Ron would have wanted him here among family." Mr. Weasley said this kindly to Remus, shaking the long-fingered hand that was offered to him.

"Thank you, Arthur. I'm glad I could come. Ron was a very brave young man. I'm glad that I knew him."

Arthur could only nod at that. He then turned to Harry and his entire expression seemed to change. If Harry had been pressed to describe it, he would have called it awkward restraint of some other emotion.

"Harry..." Mr. Weasley didn't seem to know what to say. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He patted Harry on the shoulder a few times and walked away.

The rest of the family and the Order seemed to already be in the dining room, so Remus made quick excuses for the two of them. "We'll just be a moment, Arthur. There's something I need to discuss with Harry. May we use your den for a moment?"

Mr. Weasley nodded from a distance and turned to walk into the kitchen. Remus grabbed Harry by the sleeve of his robes and all but dragged him into the room across the hall and closed the door.

What happened after that was a sight to see. As soon as Remus closed the door to the den, he put Snape's face on his long fingered, potion-stained hands and gasped out a sob. Harry was shocked not only to witness Snape crying but also at the realization that it was Remus who was so overcome. As he watched the man weep, he forgot his own grief for a moment.

Remus seemed to get control of himself quickly and shuddered a long breath. "I'm sorry, Harry. I've been to many funerals in my time but..." The older man drifted off. He wiped his face with his hands and kept his eyes on the floor.

"I don't suppose you know this, but I wasn't able to attend either Lily or James' funeral." Snape's voice was full of emotion as he carried on. "It all happened so quickly. I was on a mission for the Order when it happened and word didn't reach me until a day later. By then Sirius was on his way to Azkaban and Peter was dead and I just didn't make it in time."

Remus turned to Harry, Snape's black eyes seemed filled with sadness. The fact that this was definitely Remus in front of him and not Snape did not make it any less disturbing.

"I'm very sorry, Harry. I actually pulled you in here to give you a moment's peace before walking into the dining room. Seeing you at your best friend's funeral just brought back some very painful memories. I didn't intend to make such a spectacle."

Harry had nothing to say to that, but he didn't want his friend thinking that he couldn't be honest with him, so he said, "It's alright, Remus. And no, I didn't know that you didn't get to go to their funerals. That must have been horrible for you."

Remus' soft smile looked so very strange on Snape's face. "I've attended many funerals in my life, Harry, but none for the people who meant the most to me." He paused here and seemed to remember where they were and what had just happened. "Again, I'm sorry, Harry. How are you holding up?"

Harry had been ready to break into a million pieces just moments ago, but seeing his friend do so in the Potions Master's body had shocked the grief right out of him. At the moment, he could honestly say he was more concerned with Remus' mourning than his own.

"Holding up well enough. Are you sure you're alright?"

Remus nodded, sending Snape's black hair swishing a bit, which is no doubt why the professor never used the gesture.

"Now, Harry, I don't want you to be bothered by Arthur's reaction. You know the Weasleys love you. That isn't going to change just because Ron is no longer with us."

And in an instant, the sadness Harry had felt prior to the shock of seeing his older friend cry was back again. The idea of walking into that room and seeing the faces of Ron's family was terrifying. He would much rather face down Voldemort without his wand than walk into that room right now. The emotion must have shown on his face, because Remus walked the few steps separating them and with some hesitation, wrapped Harry in his arms.

At the moment, Remus smelled like potions fumes and his hair felt greasy on his cheeks. But Harry did not hesitate to wrap his own arms around the slightly taller man, allowing some of the emotions of the day to seep out of him.

It was odd, to say the least, to feel the thin arms of the Severus Snape surrounding him, but not unwelcome. He had thought that the embrace would feel awkward, since no doubt Snape's body would be unused to offering comfort. But Snape's robes were softer than they appeared and he could feel those very elegant, stained hands on his back, unmoving but comforting all the same.

Harry did not cry but his body did shudder a bit. Though he was comfortable with his friend, he knew it was still not the time for mourning. For just a moment he wondered if the safe feeling that was on the border of his senses came from being close to Remus or to Snape. Though he was grateful to Remus for the comfort he was offering, Harry felt as though it was Snape he was embracing more than his friend; that the small peace he was experiencing was due to the Potions Master's presence and not Remus'. Harry returned the hug for all he was worth, feeling immense guilt at the sudden realization that he was clasping his arms and taking comfort from two men, both of whom took their suffering in silence.

With the thought that there were men who had indeed suffered more than him, he released Remus and allowed himself to be steered toward the door.

* * *

Harry walked the few steps from the den to the dining room like he was marching to his death. He wondered what he looked like at that moment, because he was sure he had never seen Remus look as terrified as he felt. He knew he was taking smaller steps than normal, and slowly at that, but Remus didn't push him; the older man stayed just a step behind him the entire way.

They finally reached the dining area where voices participating in numerous conversations were conversing in a variety of tones. As he walked over the threshold, all conversations stopped, the participants' eyes falling on Harry.

He desperately wished he knew a spell to sink through the floor. To hell with the Ministry; he'd just make himself a little home out of the floorboards and live there forever.

The sound of a chair scraping the ground was heard, and before he knew what was happening, he found himself with an armful of bushy brown hair covering his face. Realizing who the hair belonged to, he hugged Hermione back just the same. Fred and George came over and patted him on the back, while Hermione seemed to have no trouble weeping in his arms. Harry looked up from the tangle of hair he was currently lost in and finally saw the faces of the other Weasley family members. Mr. Weasley, Bill and Charlie all gave him some form of a friendly nod, silently acknowledging his presence. Mrs. Weasley seemed to be crying again and Mr. Weasley held her hand. Ginny looked at him and gave him a small smile, her red eyes the only evidence of her crying. The only face that seemed angry was Percy's. He was giving him a look similar to the one that had been pasted on his face in his fifth year, when Percy had believed the Ministry's lies about the crazy, attention-loving Boy Who Lived.

He felt a slender hand on his shoulder and shuddered. "Perhaps we should take this out into the hall, Harry. Boys, why don't you give the two of them a little privacy."

"Yeah, Remus; just a quick word, Harry," George said as he ushered the four of them out into the hall.

Fred was pacing the carpet of the hallway while George ran a hand through his hair. Hermione was still sobbing, though quietly, on Harry's shoulder.

George raised his head to speak, "Look, I just want to say this one thing and then we'll never talk about it again, alright?"

Harry nodded.

"None of us blame you. It wasn't your fault, it wasn't Hermione's fault or even that greasy bastard Snape's. We don't want you blaming yourself for this, and don't try to argue with us cause we know you are."

Harry was speechless. He hated that his only form of communication seemed to be in head nodding-form, but it was the only way he could relate that he understood and accepted the twins' concern. He cleared his throat and said, "Thanks." It was a pithy thing to relate to such a great defense of his person, but it was all he could say at that point.

It seemed to be enough for Fred and George. They both embraced him, and Hermione by extension, and went back into the dining room.

For a few moments, the two friends just stood in the hallway holding each other. Harry had thought that he'd have a million things to say to Hermione in this moment. Now that he was here, he had no idea how to comfort his friend. He had no idea what she was going through. He had loved Ron like a brother, but Hermione had loved him in a way Harry had never experienced.

Thinking that perhaps this wasn't the best place for this, he led Hermione silently back to the den he and Remus had left just moments ago. He sat her down on an old couch and pulled her hair back from around her face.

She really was beautiful in mourning. There seemed to be a new kind of grace around her; some kind of maturity, no doubt. Harry wondered how he had seemed to Remus and Snape in the last few days and whether he looked as different in his sadness as Hermione did.

Hermione opened her mouth to speak but only a sob came out. Harry just nodded, his graying hair falling slightly into his eyes. Hermione pushed it back with a finger, and caught at it just as it started to turn black and shorten.

"Damn, I forgot to take another sip of the potion." He reached into his robes to pull out the silver flask but Hermione stopped him

"Please don't. At least for just a minute, Harry. I've missed you so much in the past few days..." She began her crying anew after that and though Harry thought it was a horrible idea, he put his hands back on hers and left the potion in his robes.

The change was immediate. The clothes he was wearing were again a size too big. His arms were too short for the sleeves of his shirt and he looked like a child playing dress-up in his teacher's robes. He felt ridiculous but it was worth it for the sad smile Hermione was gracing him with.

He hugged her again, this time with his own arms. She returned the hug with more force than the last.

When she pulled away this time, there were bright tears in her brown eyes. She looked straight into Harry's and without hesitation kissed him full on the lips.

Harry immediately pulled back, shocked, not considering how his reaction might upset his friend.

"Oh, God! I'm sorry, Harry, I don't know what I was thinking!"

Hermione turned away and started crying again. Harry had no idea what had just happened but he knew the thought of kissing Hermione in Ron's house, not an hour after they laid his body in the cold earth, made him sick. He got up from the couch they were sitting on and paced the floor, his robes dragging a bit on the ground.

"I'm so sorry. It's just that you were looking at me and I felt so close to you and I'm so confused right now, I don't know what to think and I just miss Ron so much!" All of this left her mouth in a mad rush. Her face was red and her breath came in loud sobs.

Harry stopped his pacing and forced himself to calm down. This wasn't about him at all, he realized. Right now was for Hermione, who was suffering far more than he was. He sat down next to her again and pulled her close to him.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, as she sobbed into his shoulder again.

"Shh, it's alright. Don't even think about it, it never happened." Harry wished it had never happened. Kissing Hermione had felt very much like kissing his sister. He imagined it'd be much like kissing Ginny.

Hermione raised her head a bit. "I never got to tell him that I loved him, Harry. He never knew how I felt about him. I always thought there'd be time enough for that. I wanted to concentrate on school, our OWLS and then our NEWTS. I just thought there'd be time after that to settle down. But I'd known for a long time who I wanted to be with. I just can't imagine my life now without him. It's like a whole piece of me is missing."

Harry held back his own tears at Hermione's words. Trying to keep his voice as level as possible, he said, "Trust me, Hermione. Ron knew. And he felt the exact same way. It was written all over your faces every time you stepped into the same room."

Hermione smiled, which helped Harry to relax just a bit.

"He died knowing he was loved," Harry said, still holding back tears. Wanting only to comfort his friend, he told her, "Whatever happens next, we'll face it together, just like we always have. You're my best friend, Hermione."

"Oh, Harry." Something Harry had said had her weeping again and Harry was silent for the time being, allowing himself to be used as a pillow.

Much later, when Harry was sure lunch had ended, they got up as one and went to the door that lead to the hall. Harry took out the silver flask and drank his potion, feeling the familiar effects on his body and the sensation of his clothes fitting again.

Hermione smiled. "It really was strange to see Snape's face do something other than scowl at us." She paused at the door before exiting into the hall. "Did you talk about anything while you were on the Express together?"

Harry flinched. Knowing there was no way he could answer that question, he nodded and said, "Yeah."

* * *

Seamus is quoting an old Irish prayer, the man in black is quoting Thucydides and Hermione recites W.H. Auden's "Funeral Blues" which is one of the most beautiful poems I'd ever read and had to include it here. The funeral scene and scene between Harry and Remus afterwards were very difficult for me to write; please let me know what you thought of them.

Also, there's a scene in the infirmary that describes the ending of an American movie classic. The scene always moved me and I'll be happy if anyone can guess what movie it was.


	11. Listen to Your Enemies

Disclaimer: I do not Harry Potter or his universe and make no money from this story.

A/N: Thank you to all the wonderful reviewers who sent their thoughts on the last chapter. I'm very sorry for making you cry, but I do take it as a compliment that you were so affected by the story. Many thanks must go to Laurenke1 who gave this chapter a nice read and Torina Archelda who once again gave a up her time to scrub the grammar and make sure everyone stayed nicely in character. I've tried to make this chapter a bit lighter. Please review and let me know how you liked it.

* * *

Listen to your enemy, for God is talking. -- Jewish proverb

The headmaster paused a moment and, with a wave of his hand, closed the door on a retreating Harry and Remus, turning again to face Snape on the bed.

Seeing his own retreating form walking about and on its way to a public setting was difficult enough to witness while he lay in bed virtually infirm. What was even more insulting was knowing it was Lupin walking about in his skin and playing the role of Harry's protector as though he had always done so. It was absolutely maddening to watch as Harry's fair-weather friend swooped in like some sort of Johnny-come-lately to patch up the grieving young wizard and act the hero. No mind being paid, as usual, to the fact that Snape was left feeling violated by Lupin as he had been several times in the past.

The fact that this judgment was slightly unfair to Lupin did occur to Snape but he was feeling so put out by the events of the day that he couldn't bring himself to care. The fact that it was only half past nine in the morning did nothing to bring any kind of ill-advised optimism.

Knowing by now that there was no way to stop the two men and he would have to suffer through this indignity the way he had all the others, he turned to the other matter that was weighing on his mind.

"How in the seven levels of hell did you get past my wards?" Snape growled at an unflinching headmaster.

Dumbledore only nestled himself further in the chair next to Snape's bed and laid his hands on its arms. "Magic," he said, simply.

"And what exactly does that translate to? You didn't just call out '_Accio _Snape's hair brush and most funeral appropriate dress robes' and be done with it."

Dumbledore chuckled and said matter-of-factly, "Actually, Severus, I'm quite sure all of your dress robes are funeral-appropriate. It would hardly be a difficult spell to cast."

Snape growled. "You had a house elf do it, didn't you? They're the only ones who ever go into my quarters without my express permission."

Dumbledore just shrugged his shoulders noncommittally. Snape did realize that the headmaster most likely had some sort of universal password to every room in Hogwarts in case of emergencies, but he doubted he would go so far in his invasion of Snape's privacy. Or perhaps that was just hope.

Snape huffed a very sardonic laugh and let the subject drop. As much as he'd love to wheedle the information out of the headmaster, he knew that if the man did not want to tell him he would not. There were very few people on this earth that Snape would allow to get the better of him. The man in front of him was one of them.

Though 'allow' would signify his acceptance. 'Suffer' might have been more appropriate.

Snape rolled his eyes and again chose to ignore this new slight against his person. It hardly mattered, in the grand scheme of things. He turned his thoughts to what he knew to be the most important issue of the day.

"This cannot end well, Albus. It stands to reason that Potter is some sort of attractive force for trouble and with Lucius Malfoy still about-- "

"You're worried about Harry?" The Headmaster was grinning at him like the madman Snape knew he was.

Snape scoffed. "The boy can barely take two steps without falling into some adventure. I'm willing to lay a wager that Potter comes back bearing some tale about meeting a troll under a bridge..."

"Now, Severus..."

"'Answer me these riddles three' or some such nonsense. Really, Albus, nothing good can come from my absence."

If Dumbledore's grin got any larger it was going to begin to overtake his forehead, Snape thought.

"Severus, you're not well enough to even think of getting out of bed, let alone attending the funeral with Harry. I trust Remus with him. He will protect Harry with his life."

"And what if that's not enough? Nothing is ever enough when it comes to Potter." Snape said this last morosely, as his thoughts strayed to the past.

Dumbledore thought he recognized that far off look on Severus' face as he began the self-flagellation that he engaged in routinely. Wanting to steer his friend off that topic and onto a different subject, he said, "If you're feeling up to it, Severus, I'd like to discuss what happened the other night with you now."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Why? Surely Potter told you everything you needed to know, perhaps even more than I could seeing that I was unconscious for a great deal of what transpired."

Dumbledore nodded. "Perhaps if I tell you what Harry told me, we can refrain from hearing the same information twice."

Dumbledore leaned back a bit in his chair and began to tell the tale Harry had confided in him yesterday. He informed Snape of the vision Harry had while on Privet Drive, of being privy to the torture Snape had endured. He told Snape his own version of seeing Harry's terrified face in his hearth that night and contacting Lupin and the other members of the Order for a rescue mission, only to not be able to cross the wards to enter Riddle Manor. Finally, he told Snape about Harry's failure with Occlumency and, though it was hardly a surprise for the man, his face bore an expression of absolute horror as he took in this last statement.

Snape looked up into Dumbledore's eyes, willing to bet his right hand on what the headmaster's next words would be.

"I'm afraid I have to ask you once again, Severus, to teach Harry Occlumency."

Snape put all of his considerably lessened strength into putting a sneer on his face that he did not feel and readying himself for a fight, but Dumbledore held up a hand and said, "I think this time will be different, my boy. The past few days have brought about a number of changes, I believe. Please do not try to convince me that you feel the same way about Harry that you did only days ago."

It wasn't merely the headmaster that Snape was trying to convince. He knew that he could keep any untoward emotion he had towards the young man from the headmaster. What he was quickly coming to realize was that he was totally unable to control his own feelings. The very idea of teaching Harry Occlumency again filled him with a sense of hope and dread at the same time.

The very idea of being in a room with Harry was nerve-racking. His thoughts just then did not flash to scenes of those failed Occlumency lessons from Harry's fifth year. Nor did they shift through images and feelings of the James Potter look-alike that went marauding around Hogwarts without a care in the world or one thought on the matter of a Dark Lord trying to murder him.

No, Snape's thoughts immediately went to the past two nights. Of green eyes and strong hands that had held his so tenderly and those few moments he had allowed himself the weakness of enjoying what Harry had to offer.

He put those thoughts out of his mind forcefully, fully aware that the headmaster was staring at him with something like concern in his eyes.

He brought himself back to the present opportunity. He would have a second chance to teach the young man Occlumency. After admitting to himself and Potter that he really hadn't tried his best to educate the young man in the delicate mind magic, he was more than ready to accept the challenge of trying to teach Harry again. It almost felt like he was being given another chance to take an opportunity he has squandered the first time around. He'd have the chance to do things differently this time.

The fact that he had never had the occasion to correct his mistakes was not lost on him. He usually ended up paying for them over and over again instead of being able to go back and fix them. He had failed Harry the first time and the result had been Black's death and Harry's year of death-like stillness. Now that he had been given the opportunity, he vowed he would not fail Harry again. This was one thing he could do for Harry to repay the tremendous kindness he had bestowed upon him both on the train to King's Cross as well as the other night.

"I will admit that Potter was not the loathsome little sod I thought he was, nor is he completely lacking in mental capacity. His actions towards me on the train alone would have... encouraged me to try to teach him again."

Dumbledore smiled again, something like pride in his eyes. "I'm very glad to see your feelings towards Harry are changing as well, Severus." The headmaster steepled his fingers and rested his chin on his hands. Snape knew the headmaster well enough to know that he would not like what he had to say next.

"Do you finally feel ready to forgive yourself, Severus?"

Snape snapped his head quickly and felt his vision spin for a few seconds before he could snap out a reply. "I believe we've already had this conversation, Albus. I do not wish to delve into this topic a second time."

Dumbledore put his hands in his lap. "I worry for you, my boy. When will you finally let this go? Forgiving yourself does not mean you would have to give up your position in the Order or stop protecting Harry. You can still fight this war and protect him but will you not let yourself have some peace?"

Though the topic of this conversation had originally been like pouring salt on fresh wounds, Snape realized he was glad of it after a moment. If he needed any reminder of why he could never even allow the thought of Harry in a less than platonic way to cross his mind, all he needed to think of was his past. Not only was he a tainted man, but he had also caused Harry's life irreparable harm that fateful day. He owed Harry too much to ever think of burdening him further.

Severus snorted. "Peace? The concept is foreign to me, as it should be. I loathe the word as I loathe meddlesome old men and small, furry animals."

Dumbledore did not so much as crack a smile to that comment. "Perhaps spending some time with Harry will be good for both of you. I believe you can both benefit from each other greatly."

Snape huffed. "That remains to be seen. I will try to teach the boy, Albus, but it will up to him as to whether or not he will actually learn."

"I believe the events that transpired a few nights ago as well as the outcome of the battle at the Department of Mysteries were more than enough to convince Harry of the importance of Occlumency. I should not have let the issue go for so long."

There was silence for a moment and Snape struggled to stretch his limbs on the bed. He tried in vain to keep his struggle from the older man, but when a loud groan was ripped from his throat, he knew he had lost the battle.

"Will you let me help you?" The fact that Dumbledore asked instead of simply grabbing him and moving his limbs into a different position surprised Snape. As loathe as he was to admit he needed help to anyone, the man in front of him had seen him in far dire straits.

Snape nodded.

"Again, I am sorry it took me so long to reach you. I hold myself partially responsible for your current predicament." Dumbledore looked sad to Snape as he stood up and pulled the man up by his shoulders so he could relax in a sitting position instead of being completely horizontal like he had been for the past day and a half.

"Thank you, Albus. My current status is hardly your fault. However, the next time I see Lucius Malfoy I'll be sure to illustrate how difficult it is to best me when it's not a dozen to one and I am in possession of my wand."

"Speaking of Malfoys, Severus, what did Harry tell you about his conversation with Draco yesterday? Remus sent me a message that he would tell me later, but in all the stress of the funeral today, I did not have the heart to ask Harry about it."

Snape was hesitant to relay that information to the headmaster. He had been trying to ignore the growing emotions he was feeling for Harry all day, they being especially hard to ignore when he saw the young man suffering before his eyes. For the first time, he found himself wanting to comfort another person as he had been comforted, though wouldn't dare do so unless they were alone. The headmaster may have been an old man, but was astute when he so desired. Dumbledore knew Snape's feelings for Harry had changed, but he did not know the depths of those changes. If he had acted to comfort the young man, if the cold-hearted Potions Master offered a kind word to the Boy Who Lived... There would have been no denying his feelings to either of the other two men in the room. The knowledge that he feared others knowing his feelings for Harry were proof that those feelings were deviant.

Snape cleared his throat. "Apparently Draco came to Hogwarts yesterday to return my wand."

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, I had noticed its reappearance." He nodded to the dark wood not far from Snape's hand.

"Yes. Well, he brought my wand but he also came to have a counsel with Potter."

Dumbledore gave him an inquisitive expression that seemed to say, 'go on.'

"He asked that Potter look out for me." Snape cleared his throat yet again, though he had no need to, in order to gain a moment for himself before he had to reveal the uncomfortable and distressing information. "He informed Potter that he's in love with me."

Dumbledore's eyebrows almost literally shot straight off his face. Really, if he kept doing that they were going to stay that way.

"He actually said that to Harry? Plainly like that and without reservation?"

Snape said, "Yes."

There was silence for a moment as both men took in both the absurdity and the seriousness of the situation.

"And Harry believed him?"

"Apparently he was quite convincing and it would explain... his behavior towards me this past year."

At Dumbledore's incredulous look he pressed on. "His... attentions towards me have been very obvious. I thought it only a harmless school-boy crush--"

"Balderdash. Nothing the Malfoys do is harmless. Tell me the truth, Severus."

And just like that, Dumbledore transformed from grandfatherly, benign headmaster to hardened, battle weathered leader of a secret organization hell bent on destroying the one true evil plaguing the world. He was looking at Snape as though he was the only thing standing in the way of attaining some vital information. Snape knew enough about their current situation to say that might have been true.

"You are aware of the dance I have to continually perform in front of the Slytherins?" Snape questioned. "Half of their parents are Death Eaters and the other half are sympathizers. Draco Malfoy is their leader; turning him against me would be a death wish. It would put a target on my back in my own home, Albus."

"You've been encouraging his affections then?" Dumbledore asked this in a cautious tone.

Snape shook his head, the dizziness he felt last night not returning this time. "Not encouraging, just not denying. Trust me, I have no interest at all in any student..."

_Liar._

Snape's head snapped up as he thought the headmaster had made that statement against his person before he realized it was his own conscience.

The headmaster seemed not to notice his voice breaking off, instead waving a hand in front of his face and saying, "Of course not, Severus. I'd never believe that for an instant."

Guilt made its way to the forefront of Snape's mind before he could properly quash it down.

"Did Draco give Harry the impression that he may be willing to give us information if it was for your protection?" the headmaster asked.

"From what Potter told me, yes, he seems to be willing to aid in keeping me alive." Snape thought for a moment before he pressed on. "Potter came to an agreement with Draco about my welfare." Without even stopping to really think about it, Snape knew he would not divulge the confidence Harry had given him yesterday. Dumbledore needed to know what happened with Draco, but not Harry's adverse reaction to what was a very noble sacrifice on his behalf.

"I told Potter that had been the wise thing to do. I seriously doubt that Draco will be able or even willing to risk his spotless and well adorned neck for me. Merlin knows he stayed in line like a pretty little Death Eater the other night. I'm more concerned of how turning him against us would play out."

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, well, I'd really rather not close the door on the idea of Draco changing sides. I had hoped that he would not take this path."

"He isn't marked yet, Albus, and he's not likely to be while he's still in school. But that's of little matter. His family is involved in the war to the point of no return and it would take a man with a great deal of backbone and courage to take sides against his father and all his friends. Draco Malfoy has all the spine of a jellyfish."

Dumbledore's face looked tumultuous as he listened to Snape's words. He nodded but said, "Be that as it may, he is still a young man and he may yet recognize the error of his ways. If he can be saved, will you help him?"

Snape scoffed. It seemed to be his lot in life to save young men from themselves. But Harry and Draco were like night and day. Harry had all the strength and courage of the symbol of his house. And while Draco may be sly and cunning, he had none of the strength of will that Snape typically found in Slytherins. Snape didn't dare to hope there was anything worth saving.

"Of course I'll try. The boy is in my own house, Albus. It's my responsibility to counsel my students. However, I very much doubt that it will be an issue. I can't force Draco to make a stand and turn against his entire life."

Dumbledore nodded again. "Yes. The issue may never come up. I only wanted your assurance that you would help him if you could."

Snape said, "You know I would."

Snape stretched and flexed his hands on the bed. The tremors were slowly lessening, his control of his body growing stronger. Poppy had come by in the morning and told him what he had already known about his recovery. Though it would be a month or so before he was himself again, he hoped to at least be out of this bed and back into his dungeons by tomorrow.

His eyelids began to slowly flutter.

"Why don't you rest for a while, Severus? Harry and Remus will be gone for at least another hour."

Snape laid his head back a bit more and silently agreed. He couldn't help but notice the headmaster did not remove himself from where he remained nestled comfortably in his chair.

* * *

Harry and Remus walked the path away from the Burrow in silence, making their way slowly past the lawn to cross the wards. As they came to a place where they could to apparate, Harry turned towards the home of the family that had welcomed him into their lives and hearts for so many years.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were standing on the porch watching them leave. When they saw Harry turn back, they both waved to him; Mrs. Weasley with a handkerchief in her hand.

Harry smiled a bit and waved back. While they had been mostly silent during the short time Harry had been in their company after that odd conversation with Hermione, they had been no less kind than usual. Harry had been immensely relieved at that, his fear of the only family he'd ever been welcomed in turning him away being quashed at last. It was with a slightly lighter heart that he apparated with Remus.

They landed just outside the wards of Hogwarts, on the path to Hogsmeade. Remus turned to Harry and gave him a scowl before starting up the path without him. Harry didn't so much as lift an eyebrow.

Harry picked up his pace a bit to catch up with Remus. He heard the man mutter in the hushed tones of Snape's voice, "How was your conversation with Hermione?"

Harry flinched a bit but answered in a tone just as quiet, "It was... odd."

Remus tilted his head minutely so he could get a glimpse of Harry with more than just his peripheral vision. "Odd how exactly?"

Harry had no idea how to describe what had happen so he just blurted it out, hoping Remus would understand the utter strangeness of the incident. "She, uh, kissed me."

One slender, dark eyebrow rose at least an inch on Snape's face.

"Did she? Well, I agree, that is odd."

"Yeah." Harry sighed and looked down at Remus' hands. They were almost as large as Snape's, he realized, but nowhere near as long and elegant looking.

"You do realize that she's likely feeling very confused right now? She did what she did out of her grief for Ron," Remus said.

"No, I know that. She told me as much, but I had figured it out. It was just... really, really unexpected. I kind of freaked out a bit."

If that eyebrow went any higher it would merge with Snape's hairline. "You freaked out 'a bit'? How?"

Remus' face turned a bit red and Harry ran a hand through graying hair as he said, "I kind of pushed her away and jumped off the couch we were sitting on. I didn't mean to be so cruel to her, she just shocked me, is all."

Harry heard a very dark chuckle next to him. "Yes, I can imagine that was quite a shock. All in all though, how was it?"

Harry sputtered for a minute. He then said in a whispered hiss, "What do you mean how was it?! My best friend and her... well you know... had just been laid in the ground not an hour before. How do you think it was?"

Remus put a long fingered hand up to stop Harry's angry tirade. "I know, Harry. I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I meant the actual kiss. It wasn't your first, was it?"

Harry felt a bit guilty at having snapped at Remus like that. He should have known Remus wouldn't have been so callous, especially after a day like today. "No, there was a girl in my fifth year." He paused as he thought about Remus' question. He'd been much too shocked to actually gauge how the kiss may have been if circumstances had been different.

"Wrong. It just felt awful. I mean, I love Hermione, she's my friend. If she had wanted me to kiss her, like a friendly kiss, I would have, I mean I do love her." Harry realized he was rambling and was quiet for a minute.

"But..." Remus prompted.

"I could never think of her like that. It wasn't a friendly kiss, Remus. I mean, it didn't go far at all, it was... innocent, I guess, but it wasn't friendly. It just felt wrong. I mean, she was Ron's girl. She's always been Ron's girl."

Remus nodded his head, the black hair again swishing a bit. "Yes, but that wasn't my question, really."

Harry really wanted to give Remus a bit of a slap on the back of that greasy head of his. He knew what his friend was asking but was hesitant to go into it. Knowing Remus wasn't likely to back off, he deliberated his answer.

"It was like kissing a sister."

Remus nodded again, lost in thought.

"I'm sorry to needle it out of you, Harry, but I don't want your friendship with Hermione to suffer because you brushed over that incident without thinking about it."

Harry frowned, which caused Remus' face to appear as though he was very confused about something. "What do you mean our friendship to suffer?"

Remus put his hands in Snape's pockets. "Only that you, Ron, and Hermione were nearly inseparable for years. Now it's just the two of you and she's going to be very lonely and distraught. I just wanted to make sure your feelings for her are clear. I doubt she could stand to have her heart broken twice."

Just as Harry was about to open his mouth to ask Remus what he was talking about, the unmistakable crack of apparition was heard.

Both men immediately had wands out and up and stood back to back, surveying their surroundings. It was Remus that first saw Draco Malfoy coming up to greet them.

Before this moment, Remus had considered himself very fortunate all day in one respect. He had been prepared to act like Severus from the moment he heard Dumbledore inform him as to his polyjuiced identity for the funeral. But other than a few snide remarks and having to perform Severus' long gait, he hadn't had to practice his ability to actually act like the man.

Draco Malfoy's presence was about to change all of that. Every bit of cunning he possessed was about to be put to use.

Summoning every memory of his old school mate that he could, he addressed the young man. "Mr. Malfoy. May I ask to what do we owe the pleasure of seeing you at Hogwarts during the summer holiday?"

Draco approached the two of them from afar. He wore dark blues robes that were of the same style and cut as the ones he wore yesterday. Conscious that Harry was still beside him and was attempting to wear a pleasant expression on his face, he stepped ahead a bit to draw attention to himself.

"Professor Snape," Draco acknowledged Remus. He turned to Harry and cocked an eyebrow at him. Remus had never been extremely friendly towards Draco during the year he had been his teacher. The thirteen year old aristocrat had no problem of talking down to his professor and calling attention to the tattered robes that he wore, but Remus hadn't been bothered by his behavior one bit and had always been polite, if not kind to his student.

Thankfully, Harry seemed to remember this and gave his own characteristic soft smile to Draco.

"Mr. Lupin," Draco acknowledged Harry in front of him.

"Mr. Malfoy," Harry nodded.

Draco continued to study Harry for a few seconds before returning his attention to Remus. "I'm glad to see you're well, Professor. I had been concerned--"

Remus cut him off and said quietly, "Now is not the time or place for this conversation, Mr. Malfoy. If you'd like to owl me--"

"No, I really need to speak with you now, Professor." Draco's voice was clear and would brook no argument. Remus was very hesitant to offer to speak to Draco. He was sure he could pull off Severus' attitude and emulate his vocabulary but he was unsure if he would have to speak about things that only his old school mate would know as a part of Voldemort's inner circle.

Seeing that arguing would be useless and that they were still outside the wards, he waved the young man to walk in front of him. "Then let's continue this discussion in the castle where we'll be free from wandering eyes."

The three men set out to continue the short walk through the front lawn of Hogwarts.

As they past the doors of the castle, Remus turned and, with a long stride, made towards the Great Hall, not waiting to see if Draco was following him.

Harry continued walking towards the infirmary. When he heard the footsteps that had been next to him fade away, he stopped and looked towards Remus. Remembering himself, he said a word so unfamiliar, his tongue almost stumbled on it; "Severus?" he questioned.

"Do you require me to hold your hand all the way to your rooms, Lupin? I'm sure you can inform Potter of all the lovely details of his friend's funeral all on your own. I have no desire to see the brat anymore than necessarily, I assure you," Remus sneered.

For a split second, Harry was completely baffled as to what Remus would have said to that. A moment later, he seemed to remember that his older friend took everything Snape said in stride. He smiled and nodded before walking away.

Harry took a few steps into a side hall before pulling out his wand and muttering, "_Accio_ invisibility cloak."

* * *

Snape was just waking up from his nap, and Dumbledore was leafing through some bits of parchment that had not been present when Snape fell asleep.

"Feeling a bit more like yourself, Severus?" Dumbledore smiled.

Snape snorted and shifted in the bed. He was attempting to pull himself up into a full sitting position again when suddenly a bolt of shimmering fabric that had been lying on the bed next to his went by his head in a flash.

Snape was instantly on his guard though who it would benefit, he could not say. He rolled his eyes as he heard the headmaster mutter next to him, "Well, that can't be good."

* * *

Remus used the time that Draco watched Harry walk away and down another hall to quickly pull out his polyjuice flask and take a quick sip. He knew that he'd taken a drink just a little less than an hour ago and he had no idea how long this conversation would last. There was no telling how Draco would react if he knew he was being deceived by his former professor and member of the Order.

"Now what was so important that it could not be discussed by owl, Draco?"

Draco turned from his study of Harry, having heard his footsteps fade away. "Do you think we could talk in your office, Professor?"

Remus shook his head. There were many reasons why that would be impossible, the first of which being that he had no idea what the password for Severus' office was.

"No, Draco, whatever you have to say, say it quickly. Once Lupin lets the headmaster know that I've returned he'll wish to speak with me."

Draco scoffed and said, "You should have just told him to wait for you to report. That man has all the brains of flobberworm."

Hardly caring what the Malfoy heir thought of him, he considered his next remark carefully. He knew that Severus disliked him, but how far would he slander a former professor? It was a very fine line he was walking.

"Perhaps, but I doubt even my powers of persuasion could convince him to keep something from the headmaster for even a moment. And besides, it would not do for me to appear as though I was holding confidences against Dumbledore."

Draco nodded. He seemed to steel himself for to ask what he had come here for. "I just wanted to make sure you were alright. Are you?"

Remus answered him, "I am fine, I assure you. The headmaster was able to reverse that rather nasty curse your father cast on me before any significant damage was done."

Draco lowered his head and said, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't have done more but--"

Remus put up one long-fingered hand. "Do not bother with apologies, Draco. There was nothing you could have done."

Draco scoffed. "Yeah, I had to leave that to Potter. He had no problem saving you. I just wish it could have been me. I didn't want to see you be tortured."

When Draco looked up at Remus, the older man had no problem accepting what Draco had told Harry yesterday as the truth. The young man was looking at Remus like he was completely in love with him.

Remus had never really had that look thrown in his direction before, but he imagined that's what it would have looked like. He barely managed to quash a shudder that went through his body at the thought of this cowardly boy and his old school mate.

Realizing he had been quiet for too long, he softly muttered, "Yes, but then Potter has always rushed in where angels feared to tread."

Draco's eyes went wide for just a second before his face went back to relative impassivity. His eyes had lowered to a glare in that instant and Remus again held his breath, afraid he had somehow given himself away with his comment about Harry.

"Potter and I had a bit of a talk yesterday. He seems to be at least somewhat grateful to you for saving his worthless hide again." Draco again looked Remus in the eye as he said, "I can't tell you how relieved I was when I saw my father miss you and hit Weasley. It was like my life had flashed before my eyes. The worst thing almost happened and then the best thing occurred. Or second best thing. First would obviously have meant Potter's corpse rotting in the ground right now."

Remus used every ounce of strength he had to keep his face emotionless. He fought every desire to curse the spineless child in front of him, but if he was honest with himself what he really wanted was to hit him in the face. He had known that Draco had been lying yesterday. He remembered all too well the animosity between Ron and the youngest Malfoy. But disliking your school rival and being glad they had been killed were two different things altogether. Even Sirius hadn't actually wished Severus dead. He was horrified and amazed to hear the words that had come from Draco's mouth.

Before the silence extended too long, he responded, "I believe that pleasure will be reserved for the Dark Lord. You should be glad your father was unable to kill Potter, as it would have certainly meant his own death." Remus sneered a bit. He knew Severus would have no problem letting Draco know exactly what he thought of his father. After all, it was because of Lucius that he was in his current predicament.

"Why does my father hate you so much?" Draco asked.

Remus lifted an eyebrow and tried to sound as nonchalant as possible. "You'll have to ask him that, Draco. And do be sure to give him my regards."

"Right... Well, I was thinking about my father and some of the other Death Eater's reactions to you and... well I thought that maybe I could help you."

"Help me?" Remus said in a dry tone, as though there was no possible way Draco could ever help Severus.

"Yeah. I know I was useless the other day, but I was thinking that maybe we could be seen together. You know, make it seem like you're more on our side. You know what they're saying about you being in Dumbledore's pocket. We could just spent a few nights together here and there over the summer. I think it would be to your benefit."

Remus really had to hand it to Draco. He was laying it on rather thick, but he did give the best excuses for trying to get a date with the man. If he had any kind or sympathetic feelings left for Draco, he would have been glad that it was him and not Severus who was here with him. He was about to be much kinder than he knew Severus could have ever been in turning down the person who had just witnessed his torture and did nothing to stop it.

"I'm afraid I must decline, Draco. I will be quite busy over the course of the summer, you see. The Dark Lord's instructions were very clear. I may have saved Potter's life but I doubt very much that it will be easy to gain the brat's trust."

Draco looked at Remus like he was insane. His nostrils flaring once was the only outward sign of his rage at Remus' refusal. He seemed to get a hold of himself quickly enough to make one last try.

"I don't want to interfere with your mission for our Lord, Professor. On the contrary, I think it would be very refreshing for you to spend some time with a like-minded individual after having to suffer that little twit. Think of it as a requirement to keep your sanity for the job," he chuckled a bit at the end of this statement. Remus thought it sounded a bit desperate.

He smiled what he thought was that deadly smile of Severus' right before he went in for the kill. He did not want to have to be crueler than he thought Severus would be but he did have to make sure Draco wouldn't be poking his nose around the man while he was trying to recover.

"Again, thank you, Draco, but no. There is a great deal of work for me here. I will see you in September, as usual."

Draco managed to school his face to passivity quickly this time and Remus had to squint in order to see the wrath in those cold, gray eyes. "Alright, Professor. I'm glad you're doing well. I'll see you in September."

With that Draco turned and began to walk away slowly. His steps slowed down a bit before he stopped altogether. Remus fingered the wand in his pocket as Draco turned to face him.

"Would you mind asking Potter a question for me, Professor?"

Remus responded quickly. "Do I bear any resemblance to an owl, Draco?"

Draco's laugh was a bit too forced, which caused Remus to raise an eyebrow. "No, actually, but this might sound better coming from you. You know, you being his greatest protector and all."

Remus was instantly on alert at the ominous sounding declaration. "What exactly would you like me to say to Potter?"

"Only that I'd like to meet with him here tomorrow, if I can. If he's willing, ask him to owl me. Please," he added on to the end.

Remus didn't like the sound of that at all. "You do recall what I just said about leaving Potter to the Dark Lord?"

Draco nodded. "Yes. I just want to talk to him. Privately. I think he's beginning to trust me." Draco smiled and looked proud of himself. "It was easy. All I really had to do was express some fake regret over the Weasel's death before he started shuddering like some little girl. I even got him to shake my hand. Finally."

Remus cast a dark laugh at that. It wasn't too difficult to fake since he had been present for Harry's reaction after the fact. He knew that Harry was as disgusted by Draco as he was.

Nevertheless, he knew it was good for the Order to keep Draco Malfoy close. He might be wanting to meet with Harry in order to discuss Severus, in which case it was a good idea to listen to what he had to say.

"I'll inform him of your wishes. I cannot say whether or not he will accept."

Draco nodded. "Thank you. That's all I ask."

With that he turned on his heel and quickly exited the castle.

Remus waited a full minute after he heard the doors close before he began walking the path he had seen Harry turn on to. He turned the corner and walked slowly down the hallway.

Listening closely, he stopped as he heard quick, shuddered breaths coming from thin air. He reached out and pulled off the invisibility cloak from his own likeness.

It was indeed odd to see his own face contorted in such rage. Even while angry, he knew his face never looked quite so disturbing. Knowing that no words would comfort Harry, he pulled his arm around him own shoulders and started walking towards the infirmary.

* * *

Remus had his arm around Harry as they walked up the hall towards the infirmary. Nothing came out of Malfoy's mouth that Harry hadn't already guessed. When Remus first pulled the cloak off Harry's head, he knew his friend had thought he was seeing his own face screwed up in grief. What Remus didn't realize was that the only thing keeping Harry from throttling Malfoy was the knowledge that doing so might endanger Snape's life.

Harry accepted the firm weight around him but was muttering, "Really, Remus, I'm fine." He brought his arm up to pat the slender, cloak-covered back Remus was currently wearing so for a split second it looked as thought they were walking arm in arm.

The door to the hospital wing opened and Snape and Dumbledore's faces swung around to meet theirs.

Dumbledore immediately gave a wide grin and Snape looked absolutely horrified. At first, Harry had no idea why but then realized that Remus still had his arm over his shoulders.

"Lupin, I insist you unhand Potter at once!"

"Please, Severus, let me just enjoy this for a moment longer. It's such a lovely sight to see." Dumbledore's eyes were most definitely twinkling.

Remus smiled and took his arm off of Harry just as the younger man's hair began to shorten and turn black.

"Oh thank Merlin," Harry muttered, as he broke into a run for the washroom. Sounds of the lavatory being used could be heard and Remus issued a very dark chuckle.

"Well, I suppose that would have been awkward for him. People never think of the little things when polyjuice is involved, do they?" Remus said, thin lips smiling all the while.

"Yes, most people may not, however some people are very aware of the indignity they are being forced to suffer while trapped in the infirmary!" Snape's voice from the bed had started out soft but grew into a growl as he took in Lupin's widening smile.

Harry returned from the washroom looking very much like himself and wearing the clothing he had been wearing for the past two days. He was hesitant to bring up the idea of gathering his trunk from Privet Drive, fearing that once he brought that place up he'd be forced to return there. He realized that this fear was mostly irrational; there was no way he could ever return to Surrey. Not with Snape still injured the way he was; he wouldn't leave the man who had saved his life in this condition.

"Well, now that you've used the facilities, Potter, would you mind explaining why I had to duck my head in order to avoid a wayward bolt of fabric that threatened to assault my person?" Snape could make even an inanimate object seem like a deviant, Harry thought.

Harry looked over to Remus, which was very much like looking from one man to his identical, but totally different, twin. He tossed his chin in Remus' direction, asking silently that he address Snape's question.

"The funeral was very lovely, Albus, very respectful. It also went very smoothly." Remus looked over at Harry, who was keeping a very straight face but whose crossed arms made him look defensive.

"That's good to hear, indeed. And after?" the headmaster asked.

"After we had lunch at the Burrow with the Weasleys and a few others from the Order. It was all very calm." Remus was looking at Snape on the bed with a calculating look. It was extremely disconcerting for Snape to witness his own face look at him as though plotting something.

"We met Draco Malfoy on the way into the castle," Remus said plainly.

The silence that statement was met with spoke multitudes.

Harry turned to Snape on the bed and was surprised to see the look of shock and what may have been fear grace the Potions Master's face. Snape bore an expression of barely masked horror. As Remus continued to almost glare at Snape, the man on the bed continued, "And what was the outcome of that conversation? Is the youngest Death Eater in training now on his way to inform the Dark Lord that I've been replaced by some impostor or that I'm surely deserting their cause? Please tell me that you didn't do something so monumentally stupid like call Potter by your first name."

Remus was silent for a moment. Harry couldn't read the look that Remus had on Snape's face. Remus gave a dark grin and said, "I believe I did a fair enough job of being you, Severus." He looked down at his feet for a moment and paused in his speaking. When he looked up he had a very straight look on his face.

"I know that we didn't get along in the past, Severus, but do you truly think me so incompetent? There was a point in the conversation where Draco said some very harsh things about me and I honestly had to ask myself how would you respond to an insult against me. I really had no idea how you actually felt towards me."

Harry and Dumbledore were quiet and seemed to become smaller somehow and sink into non-existent shadows. For that moment, it was as though Snape and Remus were alone in the room.

Snape scoffed and snapped, "Surely my opinion can't mean so much to you, Lupin. Do not pretend to be so very broken-hearted if I fail to break out the good brandy every time you swing by the castle for a quick visit."

Ignoring the snide comment, Remus spoke loudly and plainly in Snape's deep voice. "Albus is right. You need to let this go. I won't apologize again, not for what happened in the past. I've apologized too many times already. You're better than this, Severus."

Remus and Snape were staring at each other and though it may have only been the fact that he currently wore the Potions Master's face, Harry though Remus looked down right terrifying in his own right. He heard Snape take a deep breath from his bed as the man said in a droll tone, "You are not as obnoxious as you were in your youth, Lupin."

That seemed to be enough for Remus because he nodded but did not smile.

"Well, that was promising," Dumbledore said, reminding everyone he was still in the room. "Now, back to our former topic. What did you speak about with Draco, Remus?"

Remus looked to the headmaster. "He wanted to make sure Severus was alright but mostly he came with an invitation." At Snape's questioning look he answered the unspoken question. "He asked you out on a date. Several dates actually, over the summer, in order to-- how did he put it-- lessen the appearance that you are in Dumbledore's pocket."

Snape looked horrified. "I take back everything I said to you today, Lupin. I am extremely relieved that I did not have hear the youngest Malfoy's invitation to-- court me."

Remus and the headmaster chuckled, but Harry was on Snape's side. He had never hated Malfoy as much as he did at that moment. The idea of him being anywhere near Snape made his hands shake with rage. He was grateful to Remus too, if only because Snape hadn't been in the presence of that little ferret.

Harry knew Remus was forgetting something and so he spoke up. "One other thing." He waited until the three men were all looking at him to speak. "Malfoy wanted Snape to ask me for a meeting for tomorrow. I'm supposed to owl him back if I accept."

Dumbledore crossed his leg over his knee and sat quietly. His eyes met Snape's on the bed before he looked over at Harry again. "I think it would be wise for you to accept that meeting, Harry. Severus told me about your conversation with Draco yesterday. I highly doubt he would engage any kind of attack on the person who is supposed to be aiding him in protecting Severus."

Harry nodded. He would have to control his emotions in an almost Snape-like fashion, but he would suffer through the meeting if that meant the Potions Master would be safe.

Remus broke the short silence. "Well, I think the hour is almost up. If you'll excuse me, gentlemen," Remus said as he took off Snape's outer cloak and placed it neatly on a nearby chair.

"Wait just a moment, Lupin. There's no need for you to change now; simply wait for the potion to wear off as Potter did," Snape said from the bed.

Remus smiled. "Well, I would, Severus, except that I'm not as thin as you are and these are very nice robes. I'd hate to ruin them when I change back."

Dumbledore threw his head back and laughed loudly from his chair by Snape's bed, much to the man's chagrin.

As Remus went into the washroom, Snape called out, his face red, "For Merlin's sake, Lupin, keep the shorts!"

* * *

Thanks and acknowledgment must go to Lupa the White Wolf who helped with Snape's slight homage to the line from Romeo and Juliet: "Peace? I hate the word..." She and the Marriage Stone group all threw their two cents in on what things Snape should hate but hers won in the end.


	12. The Most Cowardly of Lies

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and make no money on this fic.

A/N: Thank you to all the lovely people who've reviewed. You truly make my day as I continue with this fic. A special thanks must go to what can only now be referred to as The Marriage Stone Discussion Group, who helped a bit with the very last part of this chapter. The ongoing discussions with the incredibly intelligent individuals are a constant source of inspiration. Also, thanks to Laruenke1 for a plot beta and Torina Archelda who once again put hours into a grammar scrub and helped with Snape's characterization.

This chapter is dedicated to White Cotton, lover of books and the written word. May you always be neatly starched and never rumpled.

* * *

"A half-truth is the most cowardly of lies." -- attributed to Mark Twain

Harry slowly climbed the stairs to the owlery, running the fingers in his pocket over the message he'd penned to Draco Malfoy only minutes ago.

He opened the door and the woody smell that always accompanied owls assaulted his nostrils. He looked around for Hedwig, recalling the night he had sent her there only a few days ago.

Seeing the snowy owl, he called to her, "Here, girl." She flew down gracefully and landed on his unprotected arm as lightly as she could.

Harry petted her a few times and smiled at her cooing. "I need you to take this to Draco at Malfoy Manor."

Before he tied the message onto Hedwig's extended leg, he read through the short message one last time.

_Malfoy,_

_Meet me at the doors of the Entrance Hall at 10 a.m._

_P_

It was short and to the point. He had written the message in front of the headmaster but he didn't need the older man's presence to know he had to keep it simple. As if any message from himself to Malfoy would contain anything other than only absolutely necessary information.

He rolled up the small role of parchment with one hand and secured it to Hedwig's leg. "Wait to take this to him until he's alone and try not to be seen." With one more stroke on the soft white feathers, Hedwig took flight and flew out the door.

Harry started the short walk back to the castle interior in a slow stroll. He'd been invited by the headmaster to finally attend a meal in the Great Hall but he knew he wouldn't make an appearance. His grief was still on the edge of his mind but he kept it at bay, knowing that it still was not the time to grieve. He couldn't keep himself from wondering if that time would ever come.

He slowed his steps as he walked past the Great Hall. Sure enough he could hear soft chatter and the clinking of silverware through the door. He was sure he would have heard Remus and the other professors were he to strain his hearing, but he lingered just a moment before making his way back to the infirmary.

Harry walked the hallways at an even slower pace than he had before. Snape was awake and alert now, and in possession of his wand. Even last night, when Snape had been virtually defenseless, he knew there had been no real reason to be visiting the man. Hogwarts was virtually impenetrable, and it wasn't as if Harry's presence offered the man any solid protection.

Harry approached the closed infirmary doors with trepidation. What would he tell Snape when he asked what Harry was doing here when he should have been eating in the Great Hall? Not one good reason came to his mind, aside from the truth, which would only result in Snape spewing insults against his sanity. Resolved to take the man's usual vitriol and snide comments in stride, he pushed open the door and looked inside.

He immediately wished he had not done so.

Snape was alone in the infirmary, sitting up in bed and struggling to keep what looked like oatmeal from getting all over his face and nightclothes. He was propped up by several pillows, but Harry could tell that the man was using his own strength to keep his back straight. His pale hand was shaking as it slowly brought a small amount of oatmeal up to his mouth.

He watched in almost horrified fascination as Snape slowly opened his mouth and brought the shaking hand up to meet it. The intensity of the gesture was not lost on Harry and he wondered how long it had taken Snape to eat what looked to have been a full bowl of the warm cereal. It suddenly occurred to him that he should leave; he knew the man would not want to be seen in such a weakened state.

Harry shouldn't have been so surprised when he was discovered. Snape always seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to detecting him lurking in doorways. Upon realizing he was being watched, Snape returned the spoon to his bowl and turned his head toward Harry.

Snape's usual glare seemed half-hearted at best as he acknowledged his presence. "Potter." His voice sounded stronger than it had only hours ago. "Why aren't you downstairs making pleasant conversation with Hagrid about whatever misguided attempt at house-training a wild beast he's attempting this summer?"

Smiling at not being immediately tossed out on his ear, Harry entered the room and walked over to Snape's bed, taking a seat in the chair beside it.

Snape continued to look at him, and for a moment a curious expression crossed his face, and Harry realized he hadn't answered his question.

"Oh... um... I just wasn't hungry, I suppose. Had a large lunch," he lied.

Snape raised an eyebrow. "You're not a very good liar, Potter. We should work to remedy that this summer lest the Dark Lord or one of his minions ask some silly question that has you spilling every secret in that unshielded mind of yours."

Harry fiddled with his fingers nervously and tried not to look too surprised at the situation he currently found himself in. His mind went right past the reference to his failed attempt at Occlumency and latched on to the most important part of Snape's statement.

He wasn't kicking him out. He had been prepared for the fight of his life. This was unexpected.

"Why are you here, Potter? Surely the headmaster gave you a room for at least the time being."

Spoke too soon, Harry thought. He opened his mouth and tried his hardest not to stutter. "Well, he did offer but... well..."

Snape was looking at him like he was one of the dead specimens in those jars down in his office. He studied Harry for a moment longer, which left him feeling more exposed than he could ever remember being. Even the whispers and accusations during his fifth year hadn't been this intense.

Snape seemed to make up his mind about something. He motioned to the bowl on his lap and said, "Well, as long as you're going to force me to suffer your presence, you can at least make yourself useful." Harry picked it up for him and put it on a nearby tray.

The Potions Master leaned back on his pillow and breathed what sounded like a sigh of relief. When he looked at him again, Harry was surprised to see a much more open look on his face than he had ever seen before.

"How was the funeral, Potter?"

Harry was only mildly surprised to hear Snape's question. He'd been keeping those thoughts at bay well enough before Snape brought them up. Knowing that the words 'polite' and 'Snape' hardly ever went together in a sentence, he knew the man was being sincere. He actually wanted to know how the funeral of one of his most disliked students had been.

Before he could even think about being grateful, a wave of guilt assaulted Harry. He knew Snape had been angry with Remus for assuming his form with polyjuice. How angry would Snape be if he ever discovered the comfort he had taken at the funeral from his physical presence alone? He knew it had been very unfair to Remus, who had tried so hard to comfort him, but Harry knew that whatever had changed in the past few days with Snape had brought around the feeling of kinship and safety that had helped him endure the misery of the day.

Realizing he had been quiet for too long, he answered, "It was like Remus said." He cleared his throat to rid it of the lump that resided there. "There was a man who talked about Ron and then a few people said some nice things... it was... nice."

Snape glared at him. "Nice?" Snape said incredulously. "A new quill is nice, the house elves serving your favorite pudding is nice. Are you actually going to tell me that attending the funeral of your best friend was 'nice?'"

Harry felt his eyes tear up and he struggled to not allow even one tear to fall. He crossed his arms around his chest and thought to himself that Snape really was a bastard.

"You can tell Lupin whatever you want, Potter. He seems like the type to let you wallow in your misery until you're ready to crack. Only don't lie to me. You put your best friend in the ground today. Don't sit there and tell me it was 'nice.'" He sneered the word like it had offended him somehow.

Harry wanted to be angry at the man in bed for being such a heartless git, but he had learned enough about Snape in the past few days to know that he really was trying to get him to talk. The listless haze he had been in all year must have weighed heavily on Snape's mind. It seemed snapping at him until he revealed everything he was feeling was the professor's way of being kind.

Telling himself that this man had been honest with him about the worst moments of his life, Harry resolved to do the same. "It was awful." Harry's voice was lowered to a soft gravel as he struggled to keep control of himself. "I think... it was the single most excruciatingly painful experience of my life. When Sirius died..." he paused here and took a deep breath. "When Sirius died, there wasn't a body left. He was just gone. I didn't have to go to a funeral and listen to someone who had only met him a few times talk about him as though he knew him."

Harry had gone pale and his hands were shaking the way they had last night. Snape was looking at him as if he was committing every word to memory. He remained quiet and allowed Harry time to collect his thoughts.

"I was so afraid of seeing his body. When we first went into the cemetery, I didn't think I would make it. I just didn't want to see him like that. It just made it so real. There was this box and all his family was there and suddenly reality hit me. He was dead."

Harry couldn't keep the tears from falling as he thought about seeing his best friend's coffin closing and that big pile of earth falling on top of him.

"I knew he was dead," he said forcefully as he wiped his eyes behind his glasses. "I mean, I knew it... I wasn't in denial or crazy or anything." Harry looked at Snape as though the man was going to start spewing accusations at him, and Harry belatedly realized he was defending himself when no one was attacking him.

Harry looked down at his hands. "He was dead but... seeing him just... lifeless like that. In this box... and hearing his family and Hermione say all these things about him-" Harry paused and wiped a wayward tear from his eye. "It just made it real. Ron's dead."

Snape nodded. "Was it difficult for you, not being able to comfort Ms. Granger and commiserate with his family?"

Harry's thoughts went back to Hermione and her open sobbing and that beautiful poem she had read. He nodded. "It was horrible. I don't think I would have make it... if it hadn't been for you being there next to me I--" Harry stopped as he realized what he had said and snapped his head up to meet Snape's eyes-

Which were wide with surprise at Harry's words. Harry had never seen the Potions Master's face so expressive before. His black eyes betrayed him as he processed what Harry had just confessed.

Meeting Snape's eyes, wide and dark with some emotion he couldn't quite define, Harry was forced to acknowledge that something strange and irrevocablehovered between them in that moment. He had no idea what, but something transformed in that instant. Harry knew that his feelings for the Potions Master had changed and after his discussion with Dumbledore the other night, he knew that something must have changed for Snape too. But the man had been injured and in pain for the past day and night and there had been no time for either of them to address what had occurred between them. In an instant, Harry's words had brought out of the shadows the transformations they had both endured and cast them in the strongest of lights. It lay there in the space between them, forcing them both to acknowledge it.

Snape looked away first.

"He was your best friend, Potter. You were distraught. It's only natural that you would have experienced some confusion."

Before Harry could open his mouth to protest Snape cleared his throat and said, "The funeral, Potter. You were going to tell me about Ms. Granger."

Whatever strange thing that had lain between them in those moments was gone. Harry blinked, feeling as if he had just awoken from a very intense daydream. Knowing that now wasn't the time to be baring his soul to the man, Harry continued.

"She, um... she was crying the whole time. She never stopped." He tried to refocus on his feelings at the time but it was difficult with Snape looking at him like he could see right through him.

"She recited this poem, had everyone but Remus crying." Harry scoffed, "You would have been proud of him. Not one dry eye in the entire place except yours."

Snape rolled his eyes at that and seemed to regain some of his former snark. "Yes, I'm sure the wolf did an excellent job of standing there being quiet. I count the fact that he didn't go around smiling at people to be a victory."

"Yeah," Harry said with a small laugh.

There was silence in the infirmary as Harry studied Snape. The man still wasn't looking at him; he seemed to find his own long-fingered hands much more interesting at the moment.

"I don't suppose you'll actually find a way into your own bed tonight, will you, Potter?" Snape said quietly, still not looking directly at Harry.

Harry couldn't respond to that. To say out loud what he was thinking would be to acknowledge all that had gone on between himself and the Potions Master. He would have been prepared for screaming or taunting insults made against his person, but Snape's current incarnation was lost on him. He had no idea what to say to the man. Snape's feelings for him had changed, but into what? Harry had never had a look like the one the Potions Master had given him directed at himself before.

Snape must have taken his silence to mean he was staying in the infirmary that night because not a minute later, Snape said, "Well if you're going to continue to make a nuisance of yourself, hand me that blue bottle on the table."

The man nodded in the direction of a small side table near the chair in which Harry was sitting. He picked up the small blue bottle and opened it before he was asked to. The smell that was coming from inside was unfamiliar to Harry, but he guessed it was part of whatever regime Madame Pomfrey set up to help Snape recover from that awful curse.

Without hesitation, Harry grabbed Snape's hand in his and wrapped the other man's long fingers around the blue bottle before quickly letting go Snape's fingers rubbed against each other before a shaky arm brought the potion up to his lips.

Harry took the vial back and noticed an issue of Potions Quarterly on the nightstand. He supposed Dumbledore had brought it for him earlier, but Snape could hardly turn the pages on his own, could he? Knowing that the Potions Master would never admit to such weakness, he picked it up and leafed through the beginning.

"Would you like to hear all about the breakthrough discovery of the effects of acromantula hair in restorative potions?" Harry asked, already settling into the chair and rubbing his eyes under his glasses.

Snape lifted an eyebrow. "That would be assuming you can even read, Potter; a fact I've never been entirely convinced of." He huffed a bit as he continued, "I have no need to be read to like an invalid, put that down before you sprain that tiny mass between your ears you call a brain."

Harry just laughed. "Well, if I get stuck on a word, I'll be sure to ask."

"Merlin, I'll be forced to hear the butchering of the English language all night."

"Well, we're going to be here all night either way. At least now you can listen to something you like." Harry looked down at the article, noticing only a large picture but not necessarily what it was he was seeing. "Hey, there are pictures. That's something I can..." He cut off his own self deprecating joke as he realized what he was looking at and read the first line of the article which described the method of cultivating the acromantula hairs as seen in the picture. Harry looked up at Snape, a look of disgust on his face. "This seems a bit ominous."

The edge of Snape's lips turned slightly upward in some kind of half-suppressed smile. Harry gave a full out grin. If he was honest with himself, this is how he imagined being friends with Severus Snape would be like. Or rather, how he had hoped it would be once you cut through all the snarkiness and sarcasm.

He began to read the extremely tedious article, most of which completely went over Harry's head, only vaguely noticing when Snape's eyes fell shut and his head lolled towards Harry on his pillow.

Harry smiled, and kept reading long after Snape had fallen asleep.

* * *

The next morning found Harry pacing in front of the Great Hall. Remus had lent him some pants and a clean shirt that Professor Dumbledore had been kind enough to charm to fit him. He ran a hand through his hair and cast _tempus_ for the third time in five minutes. 9:58 floated ominously in the air as Harry fingered his wand nervously, trying his hardest to prepare himself to meet Malfoy.

Breakfast had been a very quiet affair in the hospital wing as compared to what it had been the day before. Remus came up and ate with Harry and Snape instead of taking his meal in the Great Hall. He hadn't said a word about Harry's absence at dinner last night, but Harry took his friend's meeting him in the infirmary to be an acceptance of where Harry felt he needed to be at the moment.

He had a quick talk with Dumbledore, and they decided that Harry would come tell the headmaster what Malfoy had wanted the minute the conversation was over. The headmaster would be in his office awaiting Harry's word by floo.

He paced the hallway and again ran a hand through his hair. Just then, the doors to the Entrance Hall swung open and Draco Malfoy walked through.

He approached Harry with his usual swagger, dressed as finely as he had been the last two days Harry had seen him. He carried a brown leather satchel under his left arm and Harry thought he could see a quill peeking out from the sides.

"Potter," he greeted.

"Malfoy."

Silence stretched between the two of them as it was apt to do. Harry thought that perhaps this time he would be the first to speak.

"You wanted to talk with me?"

Malfoy nodded. "Yeah." Looking Harry in the eyes, he said, "I asked Professor Snape to have you write me so you'd know how serious I am about this. I need your help."

Harry barely withheld his scoff at that. Instead he nodded and asked, "Does it involve the professor?"

Malfoy sneered a bit and said, "Of course it involves the professor. I need to find something to help him and I'd like you to assist me."

Harry sighed a bit at Malfoy's tone but said nothing. "Alright. What do you want?"

Draco looked pleased to actually be getting somewhere in the conversation. "I want you to ask Dumbledore to let me use Hogwarts' library. There are a few protection spells I skimmed through during the year and I want to read up on them... for Snape," he added.

Harry struggled to hold in the feeling of puzzlement that threatened to take over his face. "Why don't you just ask him yourself? In fact, why didn't you just mention this to Snape yesterday, since--"

"Oh, please, Potter don't be daft. Do I look like I have a death wish? Would _you_ ask Snape for permission to research protection spells because you're worried for him? Even hinting that he needs protecting would be too much of a blow to his pride- I would have been out on my arse before I could finish the question." Draco was giving Harry a vaguely horrified look as he continued, "And as for Dumbledore, you know he doesn't trust me- but he'd do anything for you."

Harry had already known that anything Malfoy said was a lie, but he struggled to wrap his mind around why the other wizard was telling him what he was.

"I'm sure you have enough books at that manor of yours."

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Yes, of course we have books. We have an entire library. A library that my father knows by heart and has charmed to let him know who touches what. I'm sure I could probably make up some story about why I'm looking up protection charms but I'd rather not have to. Therefore, I need your help."

Harry could see no reason to deny this, especially if he wanted Malfoy to believe he trusted him. He knew there had to be another reason for Malfoy needing the library, even if what he said about his father was true. Either way, he knew he needed to talk to Dumbledore.

"Alright, I'll ask him. You can come back--"

"Why? He's here, isn't he?" Draco said rather forcefully. "I'd rather not have to leave and come back and give my father yet another explanation as to my whereabouts. I'll wait, if it's all right with you."

Malfoy was standing his ground, daring Harry to deny him. Although he'd love nothing more than to toss Malfoy out by the collar of that over-starched robe he was wearing, he knew it would only be to Snape's detriment to refuse.

"Fine. Wait here and I'll go talk to him, but I can't guarantee he'll say yes."

Malfoy nodded. "I know. Just try. Remember, Potter this isn't for me, it's for the man that saved your life." Malfoy brought up the fact as if Harry needed to be reminded of it.

Harry turned and walked to the nearest floo, just in front of the doors to the Great Hall. Grabbing some powder on the mantle he cried out, "Headmaster's office, Hogwarts."

He immediately found himself tumbling out of Dumbledore's hearth, headed straight for the hard floor. Remus barely managed to catch him before he could fall on his arse.

The headmaster was sitting at his desk, alert and looking very much the way Harry imagined a general planning a battle would. "Please sit down, Harry. I trust by now you've met with Draco?"

Harry nodded and sat in what was becoming his usual chair. "Yes, sir." He paused to think of the proper way to explain what had happened so far. "He's asking to use the library. He says he wants to look up protection spells for Snape."

Dumbledore's eyes narrowed at this and Remus looked as wary as Harry felt. Remus took the chair next to him on the opposite side of the headmaster's desk. Fawkes was lightly trilling on his perch as they waited for Dumbledore to speak.

"Did he say anything else? Any reason as to why he needs to use our library and not his own?"

"Yeah, he said that he doesn't want his father knowing what books he's looking at. Like it'd be obvious that they're for Snape or something." Harry made his opinion on the manner obvious by his tone. He didn't believe one word that came from Malfoy's mouth.

It was obvious that Dumbledore and Remus didn't believe him either.

Remus spoke for the first time. "He's walking a fine line, Albus. This is a very desperate move."

Dumbledore nodded. "Desperation can sometimes lead young men to make mistakes; it makes them run too quickly. It reveals what was hidden." Remus nodded at the headmaster's words, though he seemed to be speaking mostly to himself.

Suddenly the man came to a decision and he stood up. "Gentlemen, I need your help in the library. Quickly."

The three of them were instantly on their feet, Dumbledore holding out the jar of floo powder. First Remus, then Harry, then the headmaster stepped into the flames, each calling out "Hogwarts Library!"

Upon coming out of the hearth, Harry thought the library looked sober and devoid of life. Madame Pince always made sure it was as quiet as she thought a library should be, but now, Harry thought, it seemed as still as death.

Dumbledore turned to them and said, "We're going to cast a sentinel charm all over the library that will let us know every book that Draco touches."

Harry paused. "Wait, isn't that the same charm they have at the Malfoy Manor? Won't Malfoy be able to tell that it's been cast?"

Dumbledore was already walking over to the nearest shelves, casting a hastily muttered charm, so Remus answered Harry, "I doubt it, Harry. These books have so many protection spells cast on them that even if Draco were to cast some kind of revealing charm, I doubt he'd be able to find every spell that has been cast, or even differentiate between those cast today or centuries ago." Remus started walking to the nearest row of books. "And besides, I'm sure he'll be suspicious of Dumbledore casting some kind of charm on the library anyway. He's well aware that he isn't trusted, Harry."

Harry frowned, not entirely sure he approved of what was going on. "Of course he knows he isn't trusted, at least not by the headmaster. I don't understand why we're allowing him unfettered access to the library in the first place. I've been in the Restricted Section, Remus, I know what books we have there. Why would we let Draco anywhere near them?"

Dumbledore who had been silent except for his spell casting, suddenly contributed to the conversation. "Because, Harry, Draco has told us something very important today. He's told us that he would rather we discover his plans than his father. And that reveals something very important to us. Whatever his plans, they did not originate from Voldemort and he would rather we discover them than him." With that the headmaster again began to utter the charm over long rows of books, paying Harry and Remus little mind as he did so.

Remus turned away from Harry and took out his wand. "Draco is many things, Harry, but he isn't stupid. Whatever desperation is causing him to come here for these books, he's already made up his mind to use them. I doubt the matter of a revealing charm would put him off what he came here to do."

With that Remus waved his wand in a large sweeping motion, casting a charm on a long row of ancient looking tomes. Hearing the charm they were uttering, Harry started to walk over to the Restricted Section and cast _vigilo_ on row after row of books.

Ten minutes later, the men met again at the front of the library.

Dumbledore turned to address Harry. "We'll floo back to my office now, Harry. I'd like you to floo from here back to the Entrance Hall. Tell Draco I gave him permission to use the library for three hours and that he's to leave the books as he found them. The wards to the front doors of the library will allow him inside."

Harry nodded and watched as the two men flooed back to the headmaster's office.

Harry steeled himself as he took the floo powder in his hand. He thought about Snape's comments to him last night about what an awful liar he was. He schooled his features to be completely passive as he took the floo powder in his hand and called out, "Entrance Hall, Hogwarts."

By some miracle he managed to only stumble a little as he exited the floo. Malfoy barely stifled a laugh as he watched Harry try to get his feet.

Harry scowled at him for a minute before saying, "Dumbledore said you can use the library for three hours and that you're to leave all the books as you found them."

Malfoy looked relieved and smiled. "Thank you, Potter. Snape will thank you too, once I'm finished with this."

That sounded more like a warning than anything else to Harry, but he nodded all the same.

They walked together in silence towards the library. As they approached the doors, Harry put a hand out and pulled the handle, relieved when the doors did indeed open for them.

He stood under the doorway as Malfoy walked in. "I'll come back in three hours, then."

Draco nodded, and closed the door on Harry's face.

* * *

"For Merlin's sake, get your hands off me this instant, you meddlesome woman!"

Harry might have been tempted to laugh at the way Snape was handling Madame Pomfrey, but seeing the man sitting on the edge of his bed, barely able to keep himself upright killed any humor that might have been in the situation.

"I'm sorry, Severus, but you're not well enough to bathe on your own yet. If you don't want another cleaning charm, I'm afraid you're going to have to accept my assistance."

Snape growled as he attempted to push her hands away from him yet again. "I haven't had a proper bath in three days. I realize that there are many assumptions about my lack of hygiene, but I assure you three days is as far as I will go in wallowing in my own filth!"

Madame Pomfrey looked scandalized. "Filth? How dare you accuse me of not taking care of my patients. You're as clean as cleaning charms will allow. If you'd like a bath, Severus, I assure you that I am a professional and completely capable of bathing a grown man."

Snape looked horrified at that. "And I, being a grown man, am completely capable of seeing to it myself!"

Madame Pomfrey looked as though she had been having this argument for half an hour already. "Not in your current condition, you're not."

Snape raised an eyebrow. Harry could tell the argument was already having an effect on the man. He was shaking a bit more than he had been just a minute ago. "I seem to recall my mother casting charms on the tub in my youth to insure I would not drown myself and I assure you I am more than capable of levitation and drying charms."

Before Madame Pomfrey could open her mouth again, Harry made his presence known.

He didn't even have to say a word but he could tell he'd taken all the wind out of the mediwitch's sails. Though angry at Snape, it seemed she wouldn't embarrass him in front of another.

"Do you need help getting to the bath, Professor?" The words were out of Harry's mouth before he could even consider the consequences.

Before Snape could start berating him on assuming brats meeting untimely ends, Harry quickly walked over to the man's bed and slipped an arm around his waist, hoisting him up to his feet.

The man really was thin, Harry thought. He grabbed Snape's wand with his other hand as he steadied himself and the professor. The feeling of being on his feet after two days in bed must have been enough to silence the man because all Harry could hear from the Potions Master was a stifled gasp as his arm gripped Harry's shoulder tightly. The long-fingered hand he had felt on his back yesterday returned and Harry only felt a little guilty as he thought that it felt different coming from the actual man himself. Snape's hand was holding onto him with pressure and heat and Harry smiled as he realized he was once again able to help him, even if it was only in maintaining his dignity.

Harry chanced a look at Madame Pomfrey, only to find her face almost comical in its shock. It seemed as though rushing in to help the man too quickly for her to brook an argument had been the way to go.

Harry began the slow walk to the washroom near Snape's bed. He had no desire to humiliate the proud man further so he walked slowly, acting more as a large cane rather than carrying the man. He was shaky on his feet but his movements were sure and it only took a few minutes to reach their destination.

Harry helped the man sit down on the side of the tub and slowly eased his arm from around his waist, letting Snape lower himself onto the sides.

Snape had been silent in concentration while crossing the room with only Harry as an aide, but as he gripped the sides of the tub to keep himself from falling he seemed to remember himself. "I am not some invalid that you can carry around, Potter. I don't need as much help as Poppy seems to believe."

Harry was glad for the practice he'd already had that day on keeping his snorts to himself, for otherwise he would have surely caused hellfire to rain down on him by now.

"Maybe just a little." Harry smiled and raised his hand, putting his thumb and index finger together with only a small space between. The attempt at levity was better received than he had expected. The man scoffed and turned away, saying only, "Thank you, Potter. Now leave me to bathe in peace and tell that woman that if she so much as pokes her head in here she'll feel a wrath henceforth unknown to wizardkind."

Harry laughed and handed the man his wand. Snape's pale, shaky hand brushed against his as he accepted it.

* * *

Snape spent the better part of an hour in the tub. When the door finally opened, Harry looked through the cloud of steam that poured out of the room to see that the man standing there in fresh, infirmary white nightclothes had a death grip on the sink and door handle. Without a word, Harry quickly went to help the man back to bed. Snape put his arm around him like it was a practiced move and Harry once again felt that long-fingered hand on his back.

It seemed that the entire endeavor had tired Snape out quite a bit, as the man spent the half hour before lunch lightly dozing.

Just as he had at breakfast, Remus joined them for lunch at noon. Snape growled as soon as the other man entered the room, not wanting to make a spectacle of himself as he attempted to eat as neatly as he usually did.

As Harry watched the man carefully balance his soup spoon in his hand, he thought that the tremors seemed to be dying down, if only by a little. He tried to avert his eyes, conscious of the fact that the proud man would not want to be seen if he did spill a little on the night clothes he was wearing.

Remus left after lunch, saying that he had preparations to make for that evening. Belatedly, Harry felt incredibly guilty as he realized that tonight was the night of the full moon and that he had completely forgotten.

He also realized that while at Hogwarts, Snape had been the person who had made Remus his potion and that he most certainly had not done so for this week.

"Will you be alright without your potion, Remus?" Harry asked.

Snape scoffed on the bed but Remus cut off whatever scathing retort would have come out of his mouth. "I'll be fine, Harry. Professor Dumbledore managed to find a Potions Master who was willing and able to make the wolfsbane potion for me this month. Though I do appreciate your concern, Severus."

Snape lifted one long, elegant eyebrow at Remus' smiling face. "Do try to remember to actually take it this time, Lupin."

Remus' smile never faltered as he turned and walked out the infirmary doors.

The last hour before he would go and meet Malfoy was the longest hour of his life. They were spent in the infirmary where Snape had proceeded to ask him question after question on Malfoy's tone, inflection and every facial tick in the five minutes he had been in the younger Slytherin's company.

"He wanted to use the library?" Snape asked for the third time, as though Harry would change his answer this time around.

"Yes," Harry said exasperatedly.

"And his reason for this was to find a spell that would be for my benefit?" Snape asked, all the time sounding like a man talking to a person who was rather slow.

"Yes," Harry said, a bit put out.

"Hmm."

Harry sighed. "Yeah, I know. We'll know soon enough what books he's really looking at." Harry leaned back in his chair and craned his head toward the ceiling. "I've wandered around the Restriction Section enough to know that there are dark books there. I don't understand why Dumbledore is giving him unlimited access like this."

Snape scoffed and looked at Harry as though he were a complete idiot. "It's the quickest way to discover what Draco's true intentions are, Potter. Surely even you realize that?"

Harry nodded. "No, I do know that, just... well... he wouldn't be able to fulfill those intentions if he didn't have access to the library, right?"

"He would. He has other avenues to gain access to dark tomes. I concur with the headmaster's words as you repeated them. Draco would rather the people he views as enemies discover what he is scheming rather than his own father and the Dark Lord. That alone is troubling."

Harry thought about that for a moment, a chill running through his body. "I almost don't want to know. Like... if I don't know there won't be some horrible plan he has cooked up for you, even if it's for your own protection. I don't know... I just don't think Malfoy could think of anything that wasn't completely selfish even if he is trying to help you."

"Yes," was all Snape had to say.

* * *

Snape had managed to keep Harry from walking down to the library before the three hours was up. Somehow Snape's rolling eyes and scowling face didn't have the same affect on Harry as they had only a few days prior, a fact that Snape seemed to take in stride. He managed to keep Harry occupied for that last half hour by instructing him on the proper manner in which to act in front of the youngest Malfoy.

Harry walked down to the library slowly, again not wanting to seem agitated by Malfoy's presence. He opened the doors at exactly three hours from the time he had left Malfoy to see the wizard in question putting away his parchment and quill into the leather satchel and approaching the doors.

They nodded at each other, acknowledging the other's presence again.

"Find what you needed, Malfoy?"

Draco smiled what seemed to be a sincere smile. "I did. Thank you very much, Potter. I wouldn't be able to help Professor Snape if it wasn't for what I found today."

Harry would have known better to ask what Malfoy had learned in his studies even if Snape hadn't hammered it into his brain only minutes before. He walked with Malfoy down to the Entrance Hall where he then turned from where he was standing with his hand on the door.

He nodded to Harry once more and again put out his hand. "Thanks again, Potter. See you in September."

This time Harry didn't hesitate to take Draco Malfoy's filthy hand in his.

* * *

Running like the devil was after him, Harry made it to the doors of the library in record time. He threw them open loudly and immediately went up to the section of the library that held the books on protections spells. He cast '_revelio_' and watched as nearly every book in the section lit up in a faint glow.

Scrunching his brow in confusion, he inspected the books. They indeed looked like they had been read. The dust that had settled on a few of them had been brushed off and there were a few that stuck out by half an inch, giving the look of having been pulled recently, since Madam Pince would have made sure everything was in order before leaving for the summer holiday.

But Harry knew Malfoy was lying. If nothing else, he knew that everything that came out of his mouth was a lie. He started walking over to the other stacks, casting _revelio_ as he went. Shelf after shelf came out clean from Malfoy's touch.

Harry could have smacked himself. Why hadn't he thought to start on the Restricted Section first?

He walked over to that side of the library slowly, fearful of what he would find. He thought back to his brief conversation with Snape in the infirmary, but he knew that he had to find out what Malfoy was planning. He owed it to Snape.

He began to cast _revelio_ slowly on each shelf, taking his time with the more dangerous-looking books that might not take kindly to a spell being cast upon them hastily. Nearing the end of the section, he cast the spell and almost overlooked it as one single book lit up.

Harry walked over to the book cautiously. He slowly fingered the spine, noticing how the layer of dust that must have been there previously had been removed.

He took the book from the shelf and sat on the floor, not being able to take another step until he knew what Malfoy had planned for the man who had saved his life.

_Darkest Bonds_; the title was etched into the dark leather on a tome seven inches thick.

Harry opened the book and flipped to the first chapter.

What he read both shocked and terrified him. The book seemed to cover every bond that was considered dark in history.

Harry had heard of bonds before. He knew that the life-debt that Snape owed his father was a type of bond, and that the reason he had to compete in the Tri-Wizard Tournament was because of a magical bond, but beyond that he had no clue what he was reading.

Harry leafed through the pages as his heart stilled.

There in the book were descriptions of every kind of dark bond you could ever have a nightmare about.

There were bonds that enslaved one wizard to another, bonds that forced one person to suffer another's presence lest they go mad. Bonds that would bind wizards together in life and force the death of the other when one died. Bonds that would allow one to read the other's mind and feelings the way one would read a brightly lit sign.

There were bonds that forced another into sexual slavery, that would drive a wizard mad if he didn't allow his body to be used by his master. Bonds that would trap another's magic so that it could only be used with permission from the wizard holding the bond.

There were bonds that were dependent on a person's age, one in which a wizard could rape a younger wizard and take him as his thrall for the rest of his life. One bond allowed a wizard to use another to summon a demon and use the other's body to house it.

There were bonds that would force one person to fall desperately in love with another.

Harry saw all of this in only the first fifth of the book before he shut it, hands shaking and a million thoughts running through his head, each one worse than the last.

Harry thought he heard voices as he viewed the book in his hands, growing more and more panicked by the moment.

Finally, he heard Remus cry out, "He's over here, Albus."

Remus crouched on the floor next to Harry as he took in the younger man's pale demeanor and shaking hands.

"Harry, what is it? Are you alright?"

Harry looked at the book in his hands and thought of the man in the infirmary and said, "No."


	13. Lamentations

Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling. I do not own these characters and I make no profit from this story.

Warnings: One kind reviewer on another site asked me to clarify whether this story was slash or gen. Well, just in case the multiple warnings were not enough, allow me to say again: This story will be slash, meaning a romanctic/sexual relationship between two men. If that disturbs you the time to turn back is now.

Author's Notes: Many thanks must go to Laurenke1 for a plot beta and as always to Torina Archelda for a very thorough grammar and plot beta. She reads my mind sometimes. It's a little frightening but works well for us.

This chapter was actually very difficult to write for very personal reasons. I greatly appreciate and thank all who have reviewed and ask that you do the same for this chapter, as much sweat and tears went into it. I also apologize for taking so long to update. Though I cannot promise I will never take so long again, I can say that I will try not to allow writer's block to affect me so.

This chapter is once again dedicated to White Cotton in thanks for the wonderful summary she wrote to describe this story.

* * *

I remember my affliction and my wandering, the bitterness and the gall. Lamentations 3:19

Dumbledore lowered himself to a kneeling position in front of Remus and a very distraught Harry who still sitting on the library floor, book clutched to his chest.

"Harry?" Remus inquired inquisitively. "May I see that book, please?"

Harry looked up from where he had been staring off into nothing and allowing his imagination to run wild as thoughts of the power the information in this book could bring to Malfoy. He had barely noticed when the other two men had joined him. Finally registering what Remus had asked, Harry nodded and handed him the dark tome.

Remus took one look at the title before his face paled. His hands ran across the etching and he flipped the book open to a random page. As Harry had before, Remus skimmed the information in front of him before slamming it shut again, eyes lowered to the ground.

Dumbledore took the book from Remus who, despite being obviously shaken himself, lifted Harry up by his shoulders to stand beside the two other men. The headmaster had taken one look at the title, and apparently had no need to even open the book in order to know what was inside.

"This complicates matters somewhat," the headmaster said, sounding weary and much like the old man he was.

The man really could gloss over an elephant in the room, Harry thought. His eyes were narrowed and furious as he scoffed and addressed the headmaster. "Somewhat?"

Dumbledore looked up and met Harry's face which was growing more panicked by the moment. His breaths were coming faster and his fists were beginning to shake.

"Somewhat?!" Harry's face was growing red as he started to stammer. "What's wrong with the both of you? Why are you acting so calm? Why are we standing here just looking at this thing? He could still be within the wards, we have to go find him."

"And why would we do that, Harry?" the headmaster asked with a long-suffering sigh.

Harry looked at the man with something akin to rage on his face. "Why?! Do you know what's in this book? Do you know what Malfoy could do with it?"

Dumbledore only grew calmer as Harry grew more anxious. "Yes, Harry. I know exactly what is in that book; I have read it. But I see no good coming from tracking down Draco at this time."

"No good?" Harry's eyes steeled and his hands were fisted so tightly his skin had turned white. "How can you possibly even think of allowing him out of Hogwarts with this? Do you know what he could do?"

"Yes, Harry- " but he was cut off as Harry forcefully took the book away from the man and flipped open to a random page near the beginning.

"Look at this one here... 'to bind another wizard into sexual slavery and make your touch necessary for the continuation of his life... powdered unicorn horn, asphodel... all these ingredients are easy to come by. You wouldn't even need to search for them, they're all common enough to be found in an apothecary or Snape's own potions stores." Harry wiped his brow with his other hand, as sweat had begun to accumulate in his stress. "All you need to do is brew the potion and put two drops into the other wizard's drink and say the spell within a ten foot radius, and... instant sex slave!"

Remus put a hand on Harry's shoulder in an attempt to calm him down. Harry was in a wild panic and was turning the pages furiously as he searched for yet another example of how dangerous the situation was.

"And this one... 'to bind another's soul to yours in submission, to cause them physical pain if they are out of your presence for more than twelve hours..." Harry paused as his eyes scanned the page. "One vial of blood from the victim and one from the caster must be put in the potion... along with the forcibly taken semen from the victim.'" Harry looked up and squinted. "'Forcibly taken?' That means he'd have to rape Snape, right?"

Remus again tried to calm Harry down. "Harry, please..."

"And look at this one. At least this one doesn't involve slavery. 'To bind one's soul to another in closeness that even death would not separate you.' This one uses just a bit of saliva from the wizard to be bound and it only has to be done within thirty feet of his presence. The little shit doesn't even need to be in the same room with him! Do you know how easy it would be to procure Snape saliva? All you'd have to do is get him mad at you!"

"Harry, I insist you calm down. None of this is helping Severus," Dumbledore said in anger, clearly losing his patience with the younger man.

"And I should know. I've had Snape's spittle fly at me more than once. This would be the easiest one," Harry said, obviously not listening to a word either of the other men were saying.

Dumbledore forcefully took back the book from Harry, handing it to Remus, then grabbed both of his shoulders, forcing the young wizard to look at him. "Listen to me, Harry. You have to calm down. Panicking in this situation will not help anyone, least of all Severus. Do you wish him to see you like this? Do you wish to cause him more stress than he is already suffering?"

Harry looked into the wizened blue eyes of the headmaster and forced himself to calm down a bit. He ran a hand through his hair. "No. But we have to do something. This can't happen. That little ferret isn't going to lay a hand on Snape, I won't let him."

Both men were taken aback at the solemnity of Harry's words. Dumbledore had been hopeful that the truce that seemed to exist between the two former enemies would bring about some type of friendship, especially since they would be fighting alongside one another, but he was amazed at the anger and protectiveness Harry was exuding on Severus' behalf. While the headmaster was pleased to see this development, it would be to no one's benefit to have Harry destroy the delicate truce he had so recently cultivated with Draco Malfoy.

"Of course we won't allow Draco to harm Severus, Harry. That was the point of allowing him to use the library- to let us know what he was planning. I believe we can safely assume that this is the book he was looking for when he came to do research here. Now that we know what he aims to do there are measures we can take to prevent anything from happening to Severus."

Remus nodded. "If you've calmed down enough, Harry, we can speak with him now. He should know about this right away."

Dumbledore frowned. He visibly paused for a moment, and when he opened his mouth it was clear that he was speaking slowly, choosing his word with great care. "Actually... I see no reason as to why Severus needs to be informed of these developments."

Both Harry and Remus slowly turned their heads to look at the headmaster as if he had just grown a second head. Harry gave the headmaster a look that could melt steel. He had been furious before, but it had been aimed at Draco Malfoy. In an instant, all that rage was redirected at Dumbledore.

"Why not? This affects him... it directly affects him. This is his life we're standing around here talking about. His life that would be ruined should Malfoy get his dirty little hands on him. Why shouldn't we tell him?"

Remus gave Dumbledore a measured glance. "Indeed, Albus, why shouldn't we?"

Dumbledore sighed. "Would you really burden Severus with this information? The consequences of Draco attaining the knowledge in this book could be dire but Severus does not need to know exactly what he has found. We need only inform him that there is a threat so he may take the proper precautions."

The silence in the library was absolute. Both men looked at Dumbledore with shocked expressions, not believing what was coming from their beloved headmaster's mouth.

"We can simply tell Severus that Draco was looking at very dark protection spells. Such things do exist, Harry. There are spells so strong that a single touch to the affected person would cause unbearable pain. We can inform Severus that Draco concentrated his research on those more intense spells."

Remus was the first to break the stunned silence. "I can think of several faults in that plan, Albus, the first being that most the spells in the book require just what Harry said-- hair, or bodily fluids, and if Severus isn't informed of Draco's plans he won't know to be cautious in his comings and goings." Remus' voice grew more exasperated as he continued speaking. "For Merlin's sake, you just pulled a hair off his hair brush to use in polyjuice potion! How easy would it be for Draco to summon the same from his room and get to him that way?"

Dumbledore frowned. "I still think it's the perfect thing to tell him. Severus is already a very cautious man. I don't believe further vigilance is necessary."

Harry was looking at Dumbledore like he had never laid eyes on him before. It was the most piercing look he had ever directed at the professor. "Tell me something, Headmaster. Did you have this kind of strategy meeting when you made the decision not to tell me that Sirius was my godfather? Or not to tell me what was hidden in the Department of Mysteries when I was having those dreams? Did you call everyone who knew into your office to discuss what they would and would not be allowed to tell me?"

Dumbledore frowned at the implication. "Harry those situations were very different-"

"No, Albus," Remus said in an angry tone that was so unlike the man. "It's no different and the consequences would be no different either. That's not even counting the fact that Severus deserves to know what he's up against. After all he's done for us over the years, he deserves to know the truth about what's going on in his own life."

Harry nodded in agreement. "You said it yourself, sir, last year- Sirius might still be alive if you'd just told me what had been going on. You're doing the same thing again, trying to spare people from things they can't be spared from."

Harry could tell the exact moment when Dumbledore realized he could not win this fight. The man's face grew tumultuous for a second before resignation took over and he looked down. "I only wanted to keep him from suffering," the headmaster sighed. "Severus is a very private man, and after very nearly being imprisoned in the Death Eater trials at the end of the first war, he also values his freedom very highly. The idea that Draco would violate him in this way would terrify him; he would not rest until Draco has been deterred."

Harry nodded and his anger dissipated somewhat. He still couldn't believe that the headmaster had been about to lie to Snape, of all people. He took the book back from Remus and held it tightly, as though the headmaster would take it from him again.

Snape had the best chance of getting out of this situation if he was informed as quickly as possible. Harry didn't doubt that the headmaster could protect Snape, but he knew just from flipping through the pages that a great deal was at stake. Snape's life, freedom; his very soul was at risk from that evil little shit. There was no way Harry was letting him anywhere close to Snape.

Harry breathed deeply as he sought to calm himself as he thought of Malfoy again. The little sod had the nerve to say he was in love with Snape but then turned around to plan something so utterly selfish it was mind boggling. Harry had no experience with love, at least not the kind that Malfoy boasted for the Potions Master, but he knew that forcing someone into loving you was repulsive. Even though he had only known the Potions Master for a few days, he knew that the man valued his free will above all else. And Draco was planning to strip him of that and Harry couldn't imagine a worse fate for the man. That was assuming that Draco had only planned to use one of the tamer bonding spells and not the more malicious ones that Harry's mind was currently running through.

Harry nodded. "We should go tell him now." Harry voice was solid and certain as he turned around and walked toward the floo, not waiting to see if the two other men were following him.

* * *

Harry, Lupin and Dumbledore came through the floo, waking Snape from his light slumber and causing the man to immediately tense. He knew that by now Draco would have left Hogwarts and the true nature of his research in the library would be known. The headmaster and Lupin were straight faced and solemn, which was no real surprise. He knew that whatever Draco had to have been looking for couldn't have been completely benign. But it was Harry's face that put him on guard. The young man looked like he was here to deliver Snape's death sentence.

"Merlin help you should you ever need to keep a straight face in a life or death situation, Potter."

Harry had the good sense to look ashamed for a moment. He was clutching a very large, old book to his chest, seemingly torn between protecting the tome and shielding the others in the room from it.

"Well," Snape said a bit exasperatedly, frustrated that the others were continuing to stare at him in silence.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Harry here was good enough to find the book which Draco was actually looking for, Severus."

There was yet another awkward silence which only irritated Snape all the more. If he had been capable, he'd have grabbed the book from Harry's hands by now. But one look at the young man gave Snape pause; whatever Draco had been researching was enough to cause the brave young man in front of him great fear. An even greater feeling of trepidation came over Snape and he finally lost his patience.

"Well, get on with it, then. I'll not have you all staring at me like a man about to face execution. Show me the book."

Harry walked closer to Snape's bedside, his shoulders squared and looking a bit more sure of himself than he had been a moment ago. He looked Snape directly in the eye, giving him a look full of strength and certainty. Though he was certain it was meant to offer him some comfort, it only made the man's nervousness grow.

Harry turned the book over in his hands and Snape immediately saw the title.

He opened his mouth and promptly shut it. Suddenly, the fear in the young man's eyes earlier made perfect sense. A great sense of foreboding came over Snape and a chill ran through his entire being. He could remember only twice in his life when he had felt fear such as this; for one terrifying moment, the room around him seemed to spin, paralyzing horror pervading all his senses.

A very strange thing occurred in that instant. Trying and failing to form a coherent sentence, Snape simply lay there on the bed, eyes focused on the book in Harry's hands. Snape's usual sarcasm had left him, and he could do nothing but remain silent.

Harry cleared his throat after a full minute of tense quiet. "I guess you've read the book too."

Snape pulled his eyes away from the title and sharply met Harry's gaze. "No, Potter, I have not. However, I do have an extensive knowledge of the subject seeing as how I am already bonded to a very dark wizard."

Harry gave him a look Snape didn't quite understand. Snape sneered, his initial reaction to assume the look was one of pity. Meeting those eyes, and knowing what he had learned of Harry in the past few days, he knew it could be no such thing. The look he was on the receiving end of was one of complete knowledge and understanding and Snape knew that of all the people in this world, the young man standing in front of him was the only one who could possibly understand the fear that Snape was feeling. After all, Harry was bound to the Dark Lord as well though through no fault of his own. Snape's bond had formed due to his own arrogance and stupidity.

Snape looked away. Looks like the one Harry was directing at him were not meant for men such as he. He had no right to be taking any kind of comfort or sympathy from this young man. He reminded himself again that he had already taken all the comfort and pleasure that he would allow himself to receive from the person who had saved his life. Though his head was turned away, he could still picture Harry's hands grasping the dark tome; hands that had recently touched Snape's so sensually that he could still vividly feel those calloused hands on his own days later. He curled his right hand into a weak fist and refused to take advantage of Harry again. Instead he directed his gaze at the cover of the dark leather book, trying not to acknowledge the tight grip of fear grasping his neck and making it suddenly difficult to breathe.

"Look at me," Harry said sternly, and Snape obeyed without thought. "He's not going to touch you. I won't let him. He'll have to get through me first and I'm not about to allow that little shit anywhere near you. I swear it."

Snape opened his mouth and then shut it again with an audible click. He tried to form some sort of witty, sarcastic retort to that but failed. The words that came out of Harry's mouth rang with a certain solemnity. He'd had the headmaster's protection since he had come to Hogwarts to be the Order's spy all those years ago, and Albus had always been there for him. But he had never heard a promise like the one he had just heard from Harry, nor had he ever had such a fierce protector. Harry's words and the look in his eyes conveyed a willingness to sacrifice for Snape's sake that was completely alien to him. He felt completely out of his element, completely torn open, and was disconcerted to realize that all of this was showing on his face.

Snape looked away again. He was saved from the awful silence that had taken over the room in the absence of his usual vitriol when Dumbledore cleared his throat and finally spoke, pulling the occupants of the infirmary out of the trance they had been under.

"We will do everything we can to protect you of course, Severus. I think you should be relatively safe for the rest of the summer and after that we'll have to make special precautions if Draco returns for the school year."

Harry snorted. "Of course he'll be coming back. He thinks he's actually in love with Snape, he'll want to be close by. Plus he'll have plenty of chances to cast one of these horrible spells on him," he said, hugging the book toward him slightly as if he could protect Snape just by keeping it away from him.

Harry began to pace around Snape's bed, book still in his arms. "What I still don't understand is why we're not going after him now. I know that we're supposed to get him to trust me, and I suppose he does a bit if he came to me for this but... We know what he's after now. It's not as if he's going to come to me and say, 'Oh, hey, Potter, want to help me make Snape my bonded slave?'"

Snape closed his eyes for a moment and barely concealed a shudder at Harry's last words.

"Harry's that's enough," Lupin said quietly.

That was all that was required to quiet Harry. He deflated and looked over at Snape again, muttering a soft, "I'm sorry."

Snape cleared his throat and spoke for the first time in what felt like an eternity. "I realize that you have all the patience of a six year old on Christmas morning, Potter, but I'm afraid you're going to have to make an attempt in this situation. The headmaster is correct. Draco may be planning on casting one of those... spells on me, but having him believe that there's a truce between the two of you will still be to our advantage." Harry opened his mouth to speak, but Snape held up a shaky hand in protest before he could get a word out. "I don't mean that he'll ask you to help him enslave me, but he may reveal other information. He may ask you to secure a spot in detention, or he'll ask you as to my whereabouts. We have no idea what he may ask of you or reveal but we cannot lose our only source of information. I'm afraid you're going to have to become very good at deception."

Harry looked completely defeated for just a moment before the expression passed from his face and a look of determination replaced it. He nodded and sat down in the chair next to Snape's bed. Snape immediately held out his arm to take the book from him. Harry looked from the book to Snape's arm and back as if the thing were going to try to bite it off.

"It's only a book, Potter."

Harry shook his head. "It's evil."

"It's an inanimate object. It has no moral code, I assure you." Snape reached out to take the large tome from Harry's hands and had to make an effort to conceal a grunt. "In addition to it not being menacing on its own, I doubt all of the bonds mentioned in this book are what would be considered 'evil.'"

Harry frowned at that and his eyes passed over the book again as if it were about start spewing hatred towards muggleborns and puppies. He carefully placed the book in Snape's arms, helping him to steady it. "I really doubt that. I just read through a few pages of the book and that was enough to make me to want to kill Malfoy with my bare hands."

Snape was once again silenced by Harry's overwhelming sense of protectiveness of him, but knew better than to dwell on it. Instead he looked at the book in his lap for a moment before opening it. "The definition of what is considered dark is subjective, Potter, and does not always connotate evil. Not all of these bonds necessarily cause any harm to the participants, at any rate. They could have simply been categorized as dark because they do not require consent. It is entirely possible, however unlikely, that Draco has indeed found a bond that would result in naught but the protection of my person."

Harry hardly seemed appeased; in fact, he seemed more fearful than ever. "Even if the bond doesn't hurt you, you'd still be bound to Malfoy. Maybe the bond itself would be harmless, but I'm sure Malfoy'd find a way to twist it into something to gain power over you. He covered his tracks because even he knows it's wrong."

"Of that I have no doubt. Though I greatly distrust the assumption that his intentions are so innocent. Whatever Draco has planned, he'll use any power he can possibly gain to contort my will to his own purposes. And I cannot allow that to happen." He looked at the book with a sense of great determination. "I will not be bound to another again. Not if I can help it."

"You won't." Harry looked up from the spot on the floor he had been looking at as he again met Snape's eyes. Once again, Snape had to look away at the intensity that shone in them.

He looked around to meet the troubled gazes of Lupin and the headmaster when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw that the infirmary doors were not entirely closed. A chill ran down his spine as he realized that the unwarded infirmary was hardly a safe place; neither to have the discussion they were in the middle of, nor for him to recover when Draco could appear to set his plan in action at any time.

"I must return to my quarters," Snape said as he began to attempt to sit, pulling himself up with great difficultly. Harry came over and tried to help him but he swatted him away. "As I believe I have already mentioned, Potter, I am not some invalid who needs to be carried about."

Harry scoffed and helped Snape to sit up, one strong arm going around his back to wrap around his side. "No, of course not. You're perfectly fine. You just can't stand up straight," Harry muttered, so quietly that Snape almost didn't hear him. He tried to gather the energy to glare at him but focused on retrieving his wand from the bedclothes instead. After watching Snape struggle to pick his wand up off the bed for a few moments, Harry swatted his hand away and picked it up himself.

Snape tried to snap at him, really he did. But as he had been few hours ago, he was completely and utterly distracted by the deceptively strong arm around his body. It shouldn't feel so incredible to have Harry wrapped around him. It shouldn't feel so completely perfect to feel the strength of someone as pure as Harry caring for him, helping him without even being asked. He knew without a doubt that he was setting himself up for an incredible fall simply by allowing Harry to hold him like he was, but he could not help himself. He probably didn't even realize what he was doing- holding Snape so tenderly, in a way that no one had ever held him before. Such a simple thing, to help someone up- and yet Snape had never experienced it before in his life. Snide comments cast aside, he simply concentrated on struggling not to allow his face to betray his emotions as Harry helped him to first sit up and then stand on shaking legs next to his bed.

A moment after his feet hit the floor, a welcome distraction in the form of Poppy came bounding into the room. She had her wand out and was scanning the room as though she was expecting Death Eaters to be ransacking the place. Finding none, she turned to Snape's bed and looked shocked and then angry at the sight of Snape standing up, wrapped in Harry's arms.

"Decided to go for a short walk around the infirmary, Severus?" the mediwitch asked, tapping her foot like the annoyed matron she was. Seeing the look of confusion on Harry's face, she answered his unspoken question; "I charmed the bed to let me know if he tried to escape."

Dumbledore, and had been watching Harry and Snape silently, spoke up first. "Poppy, Severus has decided to return to his quarters and I concur with his wishes. His quarters are well warded and he would be much safer there than in the openness of the infirmary."

Poppy huffed and replied, her tone churning with exasperation, "The infirmary is perfectly safe, Albus, and besides that Severus is not well enough to leave. He's in need of nearly constant care-"

Snape cut her off with a snarl. Holding on to Harry more tightly, he exclaimed, "For the last time woman, I am not a cripple, nor a mental incompetent who would allow others to speak of him as though he were not present! I will return to my rooms forthwith and if you are extremely fortunate, I may allow you inside to check on my recovery."

That short tirade had been enough to exhaust Snape, and he slumped forward a bit. It was only Harry's quick movement that saved him from completely making an arse out of himself, especially considering that he had been making the case that his strength was being underestimated just seconds ago. Harry's grip was like a vice on his waist and Snape was completely aware of how warm and strong the arm holding him was. He leaned on Harry just a bit more as he sought to catch his breath.

Any kindness that had been on Poppy's face immediately left it. She cocked an eyebrow and whispered harshly, "Fortunate? I would be fortunate to be _allowed_ to help you?"

Lupin cleared his throat and took a step forward, addressing the mediwitch. "Poppy, please, you've known Severus for more than half his life. You know how he hates to admit he needs help."

Snape snapped his head at Lupin and glared, but before he could say something about not needing any assistance from werewolves in fending off meddlesome mediwitches, Poppy was speaking again.

"I know well enough, but that does not excuse this kind of rude behavior. I'll remind you, Severus, that it is not part of my job description to help spies recover after they were injured in the line of duty by Death Eaters." Her eyes were as cold as Snape had ever seen them. This reaction was unexpected.

Realizing that perhaps he had gone too far in his criticism of the woman who truly had helped him when no other help had been available, Snape quickly switched gears. Though he was confident in his abilities, he did not have all the skills that Poppy possessed in regards to the treatment of his injury. Still standing on feet that were growing weaker by the moment, he moved his arm to grip Harry's shoulder, who so far had said nothing in his argument with Poppy.

Thinking this was completely out of character for the willful young man, he chanced a sideways glance at Harry. His eyebrows were raised and he looked a bit sheepish. He cocked his chin at Snape as if to say, 'well go on, now. You messed it up; you'd better fix it.'

Snape sighed and addressed Poppy again. "Poppy," he started slowly, having very little practice in explaining his actions, "circumstances have changed. We've just learned there is a new threat against my person. I truly feel that my place is in the dungeons." She looked back at him as if what he had said was too little, too late so Snape put his pride aside and uttered words which did not come naturally to him.

"I apologize for my rudeness."

Poppy nodded a bit but did not seem appeased.

The time spent on his feet began to take its toll and Snape's breathing escalated somewhat, his face paling as he began to lose his grip on Harry's waist. He felt the young man hold him tighter, pulling him even further into the warm heat of his body. He heard Harry say, "I'll stay with him, help him with the little things, Madam Pomfrey. You won't have to do much, I'll make sure he's alright."

Before Snape could protest or ask Harry if he had completely taken leave of his senses, he was being half carried to the fireplace. Harry took some floo powder in his hand and said, "Will your wards let me in if I'm with you?"

Snape nodded and took the powder in his hand, watching as half of it slipped through his fingers. Using all his remaining strength he called out, "Snape's quarters, Hogwarts," and tried to hang on as Harry almost leapt into the floo.

* * *

Harry must have been the clumsiest person he'd ever had to pleasure of falling on top of, Snape thought, as he and the young man in question came barreling through the floo. Snape usually exited hearths with no less grace than he exuded as he walked into a room. Harry, it seemed, exited a floo as though the thing was spitting out luke-warm tea. Harry seemed to have realized this would happen and had tucked his body under Snape's to shield his fall, which led to Snape being pillowed comfortably on top of the young wizard and truly unable to get up. He refused to admit that had he been capable of rising, he still might have stayed exactly where he was.

"Er, sorry, Professor. I don't seem to have much luck when it comes to flooing," Harry said as he slowly sat up, bringing Snape with him. He helped him up into a sitting position, Snape's back against Harry's chest.

Snape closed his eyes. For just a moment, he allowed himself to simply feel the young man next to him breathing. He allowed himself to imagine what the sound of his heartbeat would feel like if there wasn't so much clothing between them. He memorized the feel and the heat that Harry gave off before forcing himself to think this through.

He couldn't do this. He would not allow his weakness to add to his sins. He'd already done too much, accepted too much of what Harry offered him. In his damned weakness he'd allowed the young man to help him, to keep him company, and worst of all, to care for him. He could see Harry taking in his sitting room setting, looking for all the world as if he belonged there. In an instant, Snape saw where this path led and he made his decision.

"Get out."

Snape tried to use the remaining strength in his arms to pick himself up but found he had none. He truly hated Lucius Malfoy with every fiber of his being at that moment. He had never felt this helpless in his entire life. He might not be the most muscular or fittest of men but he could tell his body what to do and it would obey. He'd never been in a situation where he had ordered his flesh to complete a very ordinary task and found it incapable of complying. The fact that this was all happening in front of Harry in particular only made the situation more horrifying. Accepting help from Dumbledore was one thing; the man had seen him at his worst many times. But he had no desire to seem pitiful to Harry. He didn't think he could stand it.

He strained to turn his head around without jostling his body. He could barely make out Harry's profile in his peripheral vision but what he saw shocked him. He'd expected Harry to react in anger or a sense of betrayal but Harry's look was one of outright shock and fear.

"What?"

Snape's scoff at that was completely honest, at least. "I said, get out. Leave, Potter and take your self-righteous pity with you."

Snape's usual attitude was difficult to pull off still sitting basically on top of the young man, but he was a master of contempt and his years of experience served him well in this. He needed Harry to leave as quickly as possible. He could not fathom the utter torture it would be to endure his presence, to have him so close, and to have full knowledge that he not only could never have him, but that he did not deserve him.

Harry moved his body away from Snape's and the man fell a bit before arms that looked far too thin to be as strong as they were caught him and he was forced to meet the eyes of his tormentor.

"Damn you," Harry said, with all the malice and anger he might have held for Snape a week ago. Snape had no idea why Harry was so upset and had to work to keep a straight face and not raise an eyebrow at the angry tone.

"You need help and I'm the one who's going to give it to you. Just me, alright? No one else is ever going to have to see you like this, I promise." Harry looked down for a moment and thought to himself before addressing Snape again. "_I_ wouldn't want anyone else to ever see you like this."

Snape couldn't help the eyebrow that nearly leapt off his forehead at that statement. Knowing only that he needed Harry's arms to pull away from him that minute, he fought against the young man's grasp as well as he could, this time falling before he could be caught, his head meeting the floor with a loud thud.

"Shit," Harry swore. "I don't know why I thought that you'd suddenly stop being such a stubborn bastard just because..." Harry trailed off. Snape was busy pretending that it hadn't hurt to have his head connect with the hard stone and glowered at Harry.

"Because of what exactly, Potter? What poorly thought out and badly constructed idea is floating around in that underdeveloped brain of yours?" Snape sneered.

Harry's face was twisted in anger but he seemed to force himself not to speak his mind. "You need help. I seriously doubt you're really going to let Remus or Dumbledore in here to help you the way you need it and besides they're both way too busy..."

Snape interrupted him with a loud bark, "I do not need your help! Nor do I need anyone visiting me aside from Poppy once or twice a day to monitor my recovery, which is the only thing I cannot do on my own. I am a wizard, Potter and perfectly-"

"Yeah, perfectly capable of levitation and drying charms, I know. But what, you're going to just float everywhere? Summon everything? What if something were to happen to you? What if someone were able to break your wards or come through the floo? You need someone to help you."

Snape rose an eyebrow at Harry's words. It didn't sound as if Harry were attempting to burst into his life for just the evening. He sounded as if he wanted to stay for at least as long as it took for him to recover. Knowing that would be a month or more, his eyes widened a fraction at the thought of what having Harry in his life for that long would do to him. He'd never experienced positive companionship with anyone for that long. The longest he'd ever had a friend was in his youth, but his relationship with Lily had been completely platonic. He fought every desire he felt, forcing himself to refrain from considering any feelings he had for the young man in front of him aside from gratitude. Harry couldn't be allowed to traipse into his life and destroy him, and then leave without a thought to the havoc he had wreaked. He'd never be able to survive such an assault. Snape would have to endure every day of that month with Harry smiling at him and being kind to him and Merlin forbid, perhaps even holding his hand again, and he knew there would be no surviving it.

"Get... out. I do not want you here. Your presence is undesirable and I have no need of you. Now leave before I forget myself and let me assure you, Potter, that while my body may be broken, I am more than capable of removing you from my quarters." Snape took the wand that had landed near Harry's hand and aimed it rather pathetically at him. To his credit, Harry didn't laugh.

He yelled instead. "Stop it! I know what you're doing. Exactly how stupid do you think I am? Do you think I haven't noticed what's been going on? What's happened..." he waved a hand between the two of them and continued, "in just the last few days?"

Snape shook his head. He would not be pulled into this argument. He backed up on his elbows a few inches until he could go no more. Breathing heavily, he noticed that he was being pulled up by his arms and half dragged, half carried to the floor next to his sofa, where he was propped up against it like a broom handle. Harry sat next to him on the floor, turning his head to meet Snape's gaze.

"I'm not leaving you, alright? I'm staying right here until you've recovered. I won't let you be hurt and I won't let Malfoy get anywhere near you."

"You arrogant little-," Snape cut himself off, beyond furious. The look of disgust on Snape's face was completely genuine. "Do you really think that you would be able to protect me against fully trained dark wizards should they choose to come here to kill me? Are you so conceited as to truly believe that or have you finally gone insane from delusions of grandeur?"

Harry shook his head, his anger growing by the minute. "It's not a matter of whether or not I'll be able to help you, it's matter of... standing by you. Of not letting you face this alone. I won't do that."

Snape scoffed and tried to summon all his anger, all the righteous indignation he felt at the situation he currently found himself in. "Whatever you think you feel for me, Potter, is a simple emotional reaction to the fact that I was the only person with you in your time of crisis. If it had been Lupin..."

"I told Remus that I wouldn't let that little ferret lay a hand on you!" Harry put his face in his hands for a moment before he looked up and screamed at the top of his lungs, "You told me about the worst moment of your life! You told me the worst thing you'd ever done! You didn't lie to me; you were completely honest. And more than that, you helped me in a way that no one else possibly could have. Don't you understand that you miserable bastard?" Harry was screaming inches away from his face and Snape knew that were it not for the fact that he could not move his head properly, the young man would be pacing in front of his fireplace as he was wont to do when upset.

"Stupid boy. Do I have to repeat everything I tell you, Potter?" Snape leaned closer, his voice deadly quiet. "None of this has anything to do with you." He straightened up as well as he could and said, "You still believe in all of this fate tripe don't you? Think it's all out of your hands, Potter? That you have no choice but to protect me? Do you think of me as your hero's burden- some task that's must be completed?"

"No!"

"Well, let me tell you something, you insolent little brat. You think you know me? You think you've found a kindred spirit?" Snape sneered. "You know nothing about me and should pray to any deity you choose that you never do."

"Bullshit," Harry yelled, only drawing closer to Snape's face. "I may not know your favorite color or how you take your tea, but I know about the worst mistake of your life. I know that you're the only person who knows what that fucking... horrible... " Harry choked on his words as angry tears poured from his eyes and a sob caught in his throat. "That awful feeling that we have." Snape scoffed and rolled his eyes as best he could. "Yes, we!" Harry exclaimed , glaring at him. "I know what that feels like and so do you."

"We are nothing alike, Potter, and be thankful for that! I would not ask you to ever suffer my company or endure my presence!" Snape was growing agitated and he longed for Harry to leave, to just go and leave him to his seclusion. He'd known solitude all his adult life. It was comfortable and something he had come to accept long ago. Whatever... this was with Harry was the worst kind of torture. "You should not be so eager to be around me, Potter. You find yourself grateful to me? Me, who killed your parents, who led the Dark Lord straight to them? Does the headmaster have reason to fear your sanity?"

"None of that matters now! You've tried to fix it, you've done good. You had your forgiveness before you ever requested it!"

"Foolish boy, you should hate me-"

"Then why do I only ever feel any kind of peace, any kind of sanity, when I'm with you?"

The room went completely silent. Snape watched as impossibly green eyes went wide as he realized exactly what he had just said, what he had just confessed. A single tear fell from the corner of his eye behind the round-rimmed glasses, and Snape followed it with his gaze as it made a trail down Harry's cheek. He looked back up at the eyes of the young man who was startled, it seemed, by his own confession. Harry took a deep breath and put his head down, rubbing his face with the back of his hand. When he spoke again, it was in an almost defeated tone.

"Why, Snape?" he repeated. "Why is it that I only feel peace when I'm with you?" Harry met his eyes with a determination that Snape couldn't help but be amazed at. He forced himself to keep the young man's gaze this time, not willing to look away.

Harry sniffled. "You know I meant what I said yesterday. I know it was unfair to Remus, but I really did pretend it was you at the graveyard. I think I would have broken down completely if I hadn't felt you there beside me. Why is that?"

Snape was beyond speech at that moment. All he could do was shake his head and try not to look as awed and horrified as he felt.

Harry looked away first this time. He stared at his hands a moment before clearing his throat. "Look. If you won't let me stay for your sake, then let me stay for mine. It should be fairly obvious by now... What with all the time I spent in the infirmary... " Harry lowered his head further and said in a small voice, "You're the only one who understands all this." Harry swept his arm around in an encompassing loop and let out a hysterical sob. "I haven't even been able to mourn my best friend yet. The only time I feel like it might be... safe to let myself... is when I'm with you."

Snape was looking at the top of Harry's head as he said this, as the young man was still looking down in an effort to avoid his gaze.

"Please."

And that was really all it took. There was no way Snape could deny Harry anything, it seemed. The battle was over with one uttered word, unwittingly spoken by the beautiful young man sitting in front of him. Knowing that this would surely lead to his own destruction, still Snape offered up one more sacrifice for Harry. This one wouldn't require him to kneel in front of a madman or suffer torture, but seeing Harry every day... Living in such close contact with him, watching these maddeningly unexplainable feelings grow each day, and knowing that nothing could ever come of it...

"Alright."

Harry looked up and smiled.

_Gods._

Snape knew that there would be no escaping this. He would just have to endure as well as he could and try his best to keep Harry at arm's length. Being cruel to the young man would only cause him more pain at this juncture, and he couldn't stand the thought of causing him to suffer more.

Harry rose to a crouching position and pulled Snape up on the couch, one arm around his waist and another around his shoulders.

Snape tried to summon some feeling of displeasure at this action, but failed. "Do try to limit carrying me around like a rag doll, Potter."

Harry laughed and sat on the opposite side of the couch. "Alright. What would you like to do now?"

Snape leaned back into the comfortable cushions of his sofa. "I suppose enjoying some peace and quiet for a while would be a bit much to ask?"

Harry laughed again and shook his head. "No, actually that sounds like a good idea."

They sat on the couch in Snape's sitting room, both watching the fire, one taking great comfort in the kinship present and the other lamenting it.

* * *

Harry sat on the couch in Snape's sitting room, idly staring at the fire and running his mind over what had happened a few hours ago. It was after sunset now, past dinner. Remus would be curled up in a room somewhere like he had during Harry's third year on the full moon. He had thought to go find his friend, but knew that whether or not Remus took his potion, it wasn't a good idea to go looking for a werewolf. That left Harry where he was currently sitting.

He and Snape had enjoyed an hour of comfortable silence, sitting and watching as the flames danced about the fireplace. Harry smiled as he thought of how nice the silence had been, how comforting. It had been exactly what he needed and somehow Snape had known to give it to him.

After, Snape had rested enough to be able to half-walk to his bedroom, again using Harry as a cane to lean upon. He'd helped the man to his bed with only minimal muttering and protests. When he'd come out of the bedroom, he found a pillow and blanket laying on the couch. It seemed the headmaster had sent the house elves to make sure he was comfortable. He relaxed, glad he wasn't going to have to have the same fight with Dumbledore that he'd just had with Snape.

Harry relaxed into the comfortable cushions of the large brown couch he was sitting on and allowed himself to survey Snape's sitting room. The wooden door was on the same wall as the fireplace he was facing. There was a straight-backed chair to the right of the couch with a table to its right. Behind him was a large desk, and lining the walls were shelf after shelf of old books. There were very few personal effects and the mantle was bare.

It was a surprisingly comfortable yet obviously masculine room. Harry had felt instantly at home here, which only furthered the feeling of comfort he was currently enjoying. He leaned back in the sofa and relaxed in the amazing sense of peace he felt just being in the Potions Master's quarters; simply knowing that the man was just beyond the door to his right gave him great comfort.

After a moment, Harry rose from his warm spot on the couch and walked over to the bookshelf. His fingers lightly traced the spines of the old books, recogonizing few. He walked the room slightly perusing the library until he came to a small table in a dark corner that he had not noticed before. The table was very small and was completely taken up by a chess board. The board itself looked odd; it almost seemed to glow. The pieces closest to Harry were of the purest white; the ones near the wall deepest black. He noticed that the pieces were already in play, several of them had been cut down. He could still make out the clean part of the board where the pawn had stood prior to its demise.

Harry wiped a finger through the mess of dust and looked down at his hand. The dust was white and pale; Harry rubbed it between his fingers. He looked at the chessboard again; such a harmless object yet it brought back so many memories that he struggled to keep at bay.

Except he didn't have to keep them at bay any longer. Here, in Snape's rooms, he realized, there were no prying eyes to keep him from allowing his feelings to the surface- no Dursleys, no Malfoy, no manipulative headmaster or mourning friends he had to hide his feelings from. It was a surprising relief to Harry to allow the thoughts that had been lingering on the edge of his mind for days to come.

He'd been ignoring all of this for far too long. It had been four days since Ron's death. Four days since his entire world had changed and he had learned who Snape truly was, and four days of telling himself that it wasn't yet time for him to mourn. He'd been ignoring his own feelings to concentrate on one crisis or another; he'd put his own pain aside to comfort Remus and Hermione. He scoffed and thought of what Snape would have to say about that. Turning away from the chessboard, he walked over to Snape's couch, beginning to feel the walls he'd built crash down around him. Harry ran a shaky hand through his hair and knew that he could ignore all of this no longer.

He sat on left side of the sofa, and imagined he could feel the body heat Snape had given off earlier still lingering. He allowed himself to sink into the soft fabric, trying surround himself with the presence of the man in the other room. He ran a hand over his face and felt his body shudder as he gave in to what was coming. He started to think of things he'd refused to consider for days now. He ceased to allow himself to live and breath the lie that he was fine and allowed those horrible images of his best friend to come. Though it had hardly snuck up on him, he flinched as the image of Ron's body and that awful dream with his horribly dead eyes was brought to the forefront of his mind. He remembered how Snape told him he couldn't blame himself and how difficult it had been to accept that until the Potions Master had given him his own confession. He crossed his arms like a shield over his chest as a steady stream of tears began to fall. His eyes blurred as he remembered Malfoy's false condolences and the charade he'd had to play just to attend Ron's funeral.

Harry closed his eyes and winced as he saw the image of Ron's coffin and the too-still body that had been masquerading as his friend burned itself the back of his eyelids. He didn't even try to stop it as his mind replayed all the words that had been said that afternoon and how Hermione had wept so openly under the sycamore tree.

No longer forcing himself to hold back, Harry put his face in his hands and began to sob. Not the gentle, single droplets that had been trailing down his cheeks for the past few days nor the furious, angry weeping that he had thrown at Snape on the train, but completely unrestrained tears. He subconsciously began to rock back and forth, his body instinctively seeking comfort any way it could.

He sobbed louder and louder until finally he screamed aloud, his grief so heavy it felt like a tangible thing; all he could think of were the things Ron would never have the chance to do, everything his best friend would miss out on. Every moment of Harry's life that Ron wouldn't be there for.

Sitting on the couch in Snape's living room, Harry finally felt safe enough to express his grief at the loss of his best friend. He screamed until his voice was raw, sobbing and shaking until he was exhausted. He allowed himself complete freedom to mourn as his thoughts ran over every moment, every word, every experience he'd ever shared with Ron.

Harry wept.

Nestled into the cushions of Snape's couch Harry wrapped his arms around himself and let his sobs slowly subside as he fell into a weary sleep.


	14. Evidence of Things Not Seen

Author's Notes: Thank you to all who've reviewed. You are all wonderful to me and your words mean so much; this story is very close to my heart. I'm so glad people are enjoying it. Thank you to Laurenke1 and Torina Archelda for a great grammar beta. I seem to have picked up a canon beta along the way; thank you very much to White Cotton.

I have been challenged by my beta, Torina, to do a reverse POV of a scene from the middle of this chapter. It will be a short one short of a certain incident but from Snape's POV rather than Harry's (as it's written here). It should be up in the next day or so. : )

* * *

"Now faith is the evidence of things unseen, the substance of things hoped for." Hebrews 11:1

Snape watched as Harry slowly closed the door to his bedroom. The hour of companionable silence he'd just shared with the young man was one of the oddest experiences of his life. Snape was well-used to awkward silences, and he had to admit to himself it had given him no small amount of joy to sit companionably with Harry when he was so relaxed, so calm. Being able to give Harry some much needed peace and quiet after all that had happened over the past four days was strangely satisfying. He could tell from the look on the young man's face how much he had appreciated just sitting by the fire soaking up the Potions Master's presence.

That Harry enjoyed his company was unbelievable, yet he could no longer deny the truth of it. If the only time Harry truly felt any sense of peace or sanity was when he was in Snape's presence, well, then who was Snape to deny him?

Allowing the brat in his bedroom was another thing altogether. Laying in his bed and seeing Harry hover so close to him had been far too similar to certain fantasies he'd been working on keeping at bay. Thoughts of holding that beautiful face in his hands, watching Harry's eyes close and then finally meeting those full red lips in a kiss had gone through his mind briefly before a far more sinister fantasy slithered in. Thoughts of having Harry in this very bed, Snape's body covering his smaller one completely, nearly threatened to have him revealing his arousal in the worst way possible. Snape had looked away, mortified at his physical reaction to the young man hovering over him, and begun listing potions ingredients alphabetically until the problem went away. In his distraction Harry had managed to pull the covers up over him, bringing his impossibly green eyes and broad shoulders far too close for comfort, and Snape had banished him to the sitting room with a growl.

Snape's thoughts meandered over the exceptionally long day and all that had happened in the last few hours as he allowed his mind to drift off to sleep.

He awoke moments later to the sound of a gut-wrenching scream coming from just outside his door. He grabbed his wand and made a very passable attempt at sitting up in his bed before he recognized that the voice wasn't screaming in physical pain or alarm, but in grief and sadness.

It was Harry. And as the seconds ticked by, it became all too obvious to Snape that after four days of ignoring his grief, Harry had finally succumbed to his pain.

Snape quietly leaned back in his bed and rested his head on the pillow. Wide awake now, he listened as Harry went from issuing pain-filled screams of agony to muted whimpers. He lay there in the dark and continued to listen as Harry's weeping ceased and the young man in question fell into what was without a doubt, a very troubled sleep.

As much as he longed to comfort the young man, what could he do? How would he have made it to the sitting room, regardless? Snape had little experience in offering comfort to anyone and he was loathe to physically comfort Harry again. He may have been in an altered state the night he was cursed by Malfoy, but he distinctly remembered turning Harry's hand over in his own, caressing it as his was being caressed in some small attempt at comfort. The feeling of Harry's hand on his was still burned into his mind.

But he knew the pain Harry was currently experiencing. He knew all too well the agony of loss. He listened closely to try to catch any small cry that might come from his sitting room but heard none. Though he hated the thought of Harry suffering, he knew that this had been days in coming and he was ashamed to admit to himself that he was glad Harry felt safe enough to do so in his chambers.

Without thinking to throw up a silencing charm.

Snape rose an eyebrow at that, glad that Harry hadn't had the mind to spare him this. He was the only witness to Harry's grief and selfishly reveled in that.

Snape nestled his head in his pillow and imagined he could hear Harry's breathing even through his bedroom door.

* * *

Two young men were standing on the bank of a lake, both silhouetted by the setting sun just behind them. They were skipping rocks across the still waters and enjoying a companionable silence.

"Here try this one, it's smoother. Probably be a better shot for you," Ron said, handing Harry a smooth white stone.

Harry smiled and thanked his friend, taking the little rock in his hand. He pulled his arm back and threw it across the lake, watching with a great sense of satisfaction as it did indeed make little tremors where it skipped. He turned to Ron and put a hand on his shoulder, silently enjoying the presence of his friend and doing something so simple as skipping rocks across a pond.

Ron allowed Harry to loosely embrace him, moving only minutely as he threw his arm back to throw another stone. Harry dropped his hand and began to look for other rocks to continue their silent communion**.**

"So you're in the dungeons now?" Ron said as he bent over to pick up a black stone about the size of his thumbnail.

Harry sighed and smiled a bit and said, "Yeah. Although it is really nice, his place."

Ron threw the rock across the lake and watched as it skipped until it was out of Harry's eyeshot. He turned around to look for another and said, "But you've moved down there, right? You're staying with him... Snape?"

Harry winced. Although Ron's tone was calm, he could sense the malicious nature of the question. "Yeah," was all he could say.

Ron nodded and bent down to dig in the earth a bit before finding a stone, a pale brown one this time. The little rock had a bit of lichen on it and the green had gotten under Ron's fingernails, dirtying his hand. "That must be cozy... crashing on Snape's sofa." Harry watched as Ron threw the rock with perfect precision. "You don't actually think he's going to keep you, do you?"

Harry snapped his head towards Ron and frowned. "What do you mean, keep me?"

Ron turned to Harry for the first time, wiping his arm across his forehead at the bit of sweat that had accumulated in the heat of the setting sun. "He's only keeping you around because he needs you. You think you're going to be welcome in his home after he's better?"

Harry frown grew as he fought to defend the man who had helped him so much. "Well, things have changed, Ron... It's almost like we're... friends of a sort. I mean, really, he's a good man."

Ron nodded thoughtfully. "So you keep saying. You have an awful lot of faith in the man who tried to throw you out of his rooms when you were only trying to help. What's going to happen to you when your new best friend throws you out of his life?"

"My new best friend...?"

"Because he is going to toss you, you know. And then where will you be?"

Harry shook his head, trying to understand what Ron was saying. "Look, first of all, you're my best friend. You'll always be my best friend."

Ron looked down and said, "Yeah, well, I'm dead now, Harry. It's not as if I'm going to be following you on any of your adventures or buddying up with you in potions. So how's it going to be when my replacement throws you out without so much as 'thanks, Potter'?"

Harry ran a hand through his hair as he tried to fight both the indignation he felt on Snape's behalf and the fear that his best friend was right. "He wouldn't do that..."

"How do you know? Do you really know him any better than you did two days ago?"

"Yeah, I think so--"

"You don't. And this weird faith that you have in the giant bat is just sick, Harry. He's going to let you take care of him and then toss you out the second he doesn't need you anymore."

Harry grew angry at Ron in a way he hadn't since their fourth year. His hands curled into fists as he struggled not to tell his friend to shut his mouth. "He wouldn't do that! You don't know him!" Harry paced back and forth along the bank of the lake, his feet making sloshing sounds as they harshly impacted the wet earth. "He's not letting me stay to help him. He's only letting me stay because I need him. Because I miss you so much, you bloody prat!"

For once, it was Harry's face that was red in anger and Ron that stood calmly before him. "I know you do, Harry. But that's just going to make it worse when all this comes crashing down on you."

Harry glared at Ron with fury, trying very hard not to allow the angry unshed tears in his eyes to fall. He wiped his face and tried to think of a way to convince Ron that Snape would not abandon him but could think of nothing. There was silence between them for a moment before a loud noise somewhere in the distance caught Harry's attention. Confused green eyes met blue as Ron shrugged and said, "I think your new best friend may need a little rescuing, Harry."

Harry shot up to a sitting position as he woke suddenly to a very dark, cold room with an enormous headache. He sat up on the couch, his head in his hands. That was the second dream he'd had of Ron talking to him now. At least this one wasn't quite as bad as the last, he thought, trying to calm his breathing and the throbbing in his head. Moving slowly, trying very hard not to allow his brains to come exploding out of his ears, he realized the sound he had thought was the pounding in his head was actually coming from Snape's bedroom.

Harry stood up immediately and just as quickly regretted the sharp movement as his head began to pound even worse than before. The fire in the hearth was slowly dying and he could barely make out Snape's door in the dark. He cast _incendio_ and watched as the flames cast light over the room so Harry could make his way to see what that awful noise had been.

Harry opened the door to Snape's bedroom with no small sense of trepidation. He might be staying in the man's quarters but that did not give him carte blanche to just come and go as he pleased. He walked slowly, trying to make his steps as quiet as possible when he heard a loud thunk again and quickly paced the short distance to the bathroom to the left of Snape's bed.

Just as he put his hand on the knob the thing began to twist in his hand and he stepped away, fully expecting some dungeon hell-beast to exit. As he had yesterday, Harry peered through the fog that exited the bathroom to see Snape, this time in black nightclothes and slippers, bracing himself on the bathroom sink. He seemed almost glad to see Harry and he quickly went and grabbed Snape's waist, feeling the cotton of his nightclothes as he helped the man back to bed.

"The curse must have affected my memory, Potter as I have no recollection of giving you permission to enter my bedroom unannounced at any point yesterday," Snape sneered, only a bit out of breath.

"Yeah, well I couldn't really ignore that awful sound now, could I? What happened to you?" Harry could barely see the Potions Master as the fire in his bedroom hearth was dwindling down to nothing as well. Harry again cast _incendio_ and turned to see Snape sitting on the bed.

He frowned as he saw a bruise that was beginning to turn purple on Snape's left cheek. Giving the man a visual once over, he couldn't see any other wounds but also realized that the man was completely covered except for his face and hands.

Harry returned his gaze to the Potions Master's eyes and saw the man giving him a curious look as well. Snape seemed to be analyzing him, looking first over his face and then straight in the eye. Harry met his gaze dead on, not knowing what man was looking for.

"Are you alright now, Potter?"

Harry frowned and opened his mouth to ask Snape what he was talking about but the man beat him to it.

"You haven't looked at yourself in the mirror yet, have you?"

Still not understanding Snape, Harry walked the few steps to the man's bathroom and looked in the small mirror above the sink.

His face was completely red and his eyes were puffed up horribly. His hair was in even more disarray than it usually was and although Harry headache was now fading, he could agree that he looked a right mess.

"Oh," Harry said, rather anticlimactically. "Well... after you went to bed..."

"Really, Potter," Snape said rather harshly from the bed, "how many times must I repeat myself?" Snape paused and waited until Harry was looking at him. "He was your best friend. You have every right to mourn him."

Harry nodded and said nothing. In truth, he felt better today than he had since the day Ron had died. There had been something very cathartic about allowing himself to weep on Snape's sitting room couch, with the man right on the other side of the door...

"Oh," Harry said, finally understanding. "Oh! Oh god, Snape, I'm sorry. I didn't..." Harry stuttered as his face grew impossibly red in his embarrassment. "I didn't even think to throw up a silencing charm last night... Gods, I'm sorry."

Snape put up his hand in an attempt to silence the sputtering younger man. "There are worse things in this world than hearing such grief, Potter."

"Gods, what you must think of me, crying like some girl," Harry continued, not hearing Snape's protests.

"Potter..."

"I think I screamed my throat raw... Not even when Sirius died did I..."

"Enough, Potter!" Snape snapped at him putting up a slightly shaky hand to visibly still the younger man. "If you would recall our discussion last night, I believe you are currently present in my bedroom not for my own sake, but your own. I had assumed that allowing a grieving young man into my rooms would mean that said young man would indeed be grieving. You have nothing to apologize for, so cease your rambling at once."

Still disturbed at the scene he must have made last night, Harry took in the Potions Master's words in disbelief. He'd been so glad when Snape had allowed him to stay, but he honestly hadn't expected Snape to be so accommodating. Snape had seemed exhausted when he went to bed last night. How long had he stayed up listening to Harry's crying? Harry knew he had screamed bloody murder in his pain and his anger over Ron's death. Why had the man allowed him to do so? Why hadn't he cast his own silencing charm?

"Why didn't you do something? Why didn't you tell me to stop?" Harry asked Snape, a look of bewilderment in his eyes. "I mean, I would have... or, at least thrown up a silencing charm. I mean, really, you could have just yelled at me. Why didn't you yell at me?"

Snape said nothing and continued to meet Harry's stare. Harry searched Snape's face for some sign of what his silence meant but could find none. He continued staring into those deep, dark pools, and somewhere in those black eyes, Harry finally got the message. As it had last night, a silent understanding came between them, and Harry closed his eyes and turned his head away for a moment, amazed at the immense affection and kinship at Snape's unspoken words.

Harry opened his eyes but did not face Snape. "Oh."

"Your verbal prowess continues to astound me, Potter," Snape said in a much kinder voice than the words he spoke. "I assume you've not had breakfast yet?"

Harry shook his head and turned to address the Potions Master. "No, I'll just go get something from the kitchen and bring it back."

Snape started to rise slightly on his bed. "No need; we can have breakfast in my sitting room. It's not my usual habit to spend my summers at Hogwarts but I assume the house elves are still in employ and can deliver a simple enough meal."

"Right. Can I use your--" Harry gestured towards the bathroom. Snape nodded.

When Harry returned it was to see Snape sitting up straight, slightly leaning on the headboard of his bed. He seemed to be breathing a bit heavier than before Harry had left him.

"You know if Madame Pomfrey sees you breathing like that with that bruise on your face she'll only make you go back to the infirmary."

"She can try. Meddlesome woman."

"That meddlesome woman almost put you in your place yesterday." Harry smiled and said, "Besides if she shows up with you looking like that she'll probably think I left you to drown in the tub or something and you had to crawl your way out."

Snape glared at Harry and snarled, "I do not crawl, Potter. If pressed, I can cast a levitation charm and transport myself that way, otherwise walking is my usual method of travel."

Harry laughed and wrapped his arm around Snape's side as he had been doing for the past day. Snape was warm from laying in bed and Harry found himself holding Snape just a bit tighter than he usually did.

If Snape noticed, he didn't say anything.

"Why are we having breakfast in your sitting room when we could just have it in here? It'd be easier for you-"

Snape growled, "What is easy is not always for the best. I have to begin regaining my former strength; I'll not lay in bed a moment longer than necessary and it is my hope that by the end of the week I will be able to return to my laboratory."

Harry helped Snape to stand and allowed the man to lean on him as he took small steps towards his sitting room and then to the straight backed chair by the sofa.

Snape plopped down with none of his usual grace and glared at Harry, almost daring him to say a word. Harry shrugged and sat on the sofa near Snape.

"I need breakfast for two, please," Snape said into midair. Harry was about to question this before a small table, just big enough for two, popped into existence between them. There were two bowels of oatmeal, a plate of toast and a pot of tea sitting on it.

Harry glanced down down at his bowl in disgust, watching Snape pick up his spoon and put his napkin in his lap out of the corner of his eye. He almost managed to wipe the revulsion from his face before Snape noticed, but not quite.

"You dislike oatmeal, Potter?"

Harry looked up from his meal and forced himself to wipe the look off his face. "Er... no, I just really don't like raisins."

Harry watched as Snape frowned and looked down at his own bowl, apparently not even noticing the little bastards had been there at all.

The Potions Master spooned some oatmeal into his mouth, taking a bite. "Raisins?" the professor asked, as though Harry had just said something that made Snape question his sanity.

"Yeah, I mean just look at them... just... ugh," Harry said, emptying his bowl of every raisin he could find and placing them on his napkin.

"Is there any particular reason you're looking on what are essentially dried grapes with such disdain?"

"Well, yeah, how can you like them? They're all shriveled up and dead looking. It's not natural. I mean, if you want to have grapes in your breakfast, have grapes in your breakfast. No need to shrivel them up and have little dead things looking you in the face in the morning."

Snape looked at Harry as though he had completely lost his mind but continued to say nothing as the young man dished out raisins onto his napkin.

"Why does my oatmeal have to be littered with the corpses of dead grapes? Really, whoever came up with them in the first place..." Harry stopped when he realized Snape had been quiet for some time.

He looked up and met the amused eyes of the Potions Master, looking for all the world like he wanted to grin but was holding it back on pain of death. Harry felt his face break into an all out smile.

"Is there any other breakfast food that is insulting to your person or may we eat our breakfast in peace?"

Harry laughed and said, "No, I think I've got them all. Here, if you like them so much you take them." And with that Harry began spooning his discarded raisins in Snape's bowl.

Snape watched Harry shovel food onto his plate in complete shock until suddenly he grabbed Harry's hand with much more force than Harry would have thought he possessed.

Harry immediately dropped his spoon on the table and tensed as Snape turned his hand over, palm down, and ran a finger over the space between his thumb and forefinger.

_I must not tell lies._

Snape held Harry's hand firmly but softly, as though he were afraid he'd somehow open up the old wound if he handled it too roughly.

"Dolores Umbridge?" Snape sneered with all his usual vitriol. Harry nodded, though he noted that Snape was making a statement more than asking a question. "That vengeful--"

Harry tried to snatch his hand away from the man but failed. He had no doubt he could rip his hand away from Snape's grasp but was unsure how to do so without hurting the man. After a moment, he gave up trying to gently pull his hand away and allowed the man to look his fill. He sighed and said, "I'd always kind of wondered if you knew about that. I doubted anything got past you."

Snape's upper lip had curled up enough to actually reveal his teeth, his eyes blazing. "I'm surprised I didn't notice it before, especially while in the infirmary." Harry looked again at the thin white scar and realized that it was actually quite small and light, very easy to miss on casual inspection. "I heard rumors but when no students came forward..." The grip he had on Harry's hand was far stronger than Harry would have thought possible. Snape had his black eyes focused on the thin white scar, running his thumb over it again and again, just as he had the other night in the infirmary.

Though the situation was extremely uncomfortable, Harry couldn't help but notice that the anger shown on Snape's face was, for once, not directed at him. He was upset with the words carved into Harry's hand. As he had that night, the Potions Master ran a potions-stained thumb over it, touching it with a tenderness Harry had never known.

"Why didn't you inform your head of house that this... barbarism had occurred?"

Harry shrugged. "She had her own problems to deal with at the time and... Well, honestly, what could she have done?" Harry's hand was beginning to grow warm in Snape's. The man didn't seem to realize he was still holding it. Harry's arm was stretched awkwardly over their bowls, and Snape's damp hair framed his face as the man kept his eyes on the scar.

Snape sneered and said, "She would have done something about this."

Harry scoffed and said, "Yeah, of course, she would have tried. But, Merlin, Snape even you were on probation near the end there..."

Snape looked up into Harry's eyes and took in the scene at the table-- Harry's arm outstretched and his hand in Snape's.

Snape released his hand so suddenly Harry almost dropped it in Snape's oatmeal. Harry's hand felt suddenly cold as he pulled it back across the table.

Snape sneered again and said, "I did not know that had happened. If I had, I would have done something about it. There's a reason we don't use blood quills as punishment-- the idea that students can be punished through pain is appalling."

Snape's voice rose throughout his short tirade and his hand, now devoid of anything firm to hold onto, was again shaking.

Harry said nothing and resumed spooning his raisins into Snape's oatmeal. He half watched as Snape put his hand over his eyes and took a deep breath, calming himself. When he lowered his hand it was to find Harry putting the last of the raisins in his bowl.

"Would you please cease contaminating my breakfast, Potter? If your dislike for raisins is so great you can always give them to your bird for lunch. There's no need to go putting them into mine."

Harry laughed and said, "But look, I put them in a snake pattern. You know, add a bit of character to your oatmeal."

Snape looked down and quirked up an eyebrow, as he saw that Harry had indeed made a snake out of the dried grapes. "Yes, you can never have enough personality in your breakfast."

Harry laughed and finally began to eat.

Snape picked up his spoon again as well. "Excellent, Potter. My breakfast now looks as if it is suffering from the plague." Snape shot a glare across the table at Harry but continued to eat his breakfast.

There were a few moments of silence before Harry noticed that the Potions Master did not seem entirely comfortable. Having nothing much to talk about and thinking Snape would rather die than engage in small talk, Harry remained quiet and waited for the professor to speak.

"Did you sleep well on my sofa, Potter?" Snape's question was benign, albiet a bit uncertain, but the memories of the dream Harry had had only a few minutes ago brought up an awful feeling. Harry felt extremely awkward sitting across from Snape as Ron's words came back to him.

"Why do you ask?"

"Ah," Snape said in an amused tone. "So it is as I thought. It's called manners, Potter. I assume you've at least heard of the concept?"

Harry rolled his eyes and snorted. "Oh, that. Yeah..." He brought a hand through his hair and began fidgeting. He really didn't want to tell Snape not to ask him that question, but he also didn't want to tell him about the dream. The fear of losing the tentative friendship he was enjoying with the man was still all too real.

"I, um... well... Ron was there, but I don't really..."

"If you'd rather not discuss it, you are free to say so, Potter." Snape looked up at him and met his eyes across the table. With the dream on the forefront of his mind now, Harry began playing with his oatmeal, taking small bites of his toast and feeling very uncomfortable.

Harry saw Snape studying him again and tried to eat a bit more. Finally, when the silence had stretched on for what felt like an eternity to Harry but was in reality two minutes at most, Snape cleared his throat.

"I had a very odd dream last night. Two of them, actually."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. "What did you dream, Professor?"

Snape raised an eyebrow and remained silent.

Harry laughed nervously and put down his spoon. "Come on, Snape. I'll be polite." He smiled sadly and said, "Please?"

Snape was still looking at him with amused disbelief clearly written on his face but he wiped his mouth with his napkin and said, "Alright."

The man sat back and rested his arms on the chair. "I had two dreams. The first one was short. My father was still alive and he had asked me to visit him in his home. He gave me something. It was wrapped, I have no idea what it was. As I left the house and walked into the small city near it, I realized I'd lost it."

Snape frowned as he saw that Harry was sitting quietly listening to him, not eating his breakfast. Harry immediately picked up a spoonful of oatmeal and put it into his mouth. Once he had swallowed, he asked, "And the second dream?"

Snape sighed and leaned even further back in his chair. "My father and the headmaster were with me on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. My father asked me to go with him to this camp that he had made where we'd be safe from all the beasts that inhabit the place. I looked at the headmaster but he said nothing. He simply looked and me and started walking into the forrest; into all the shadow and dark.

"And I turned and looked at my father then followed the headmaster. But as I was walking, I would look back from time to time and I noticed that my father had started a fire. And the farther along I traveled with the headmaster, the less I could see the fire my father had started. But I kept on with Dumbledore and it became colder and darker until finally I looked up and could no longer see the stars through the trees or the fire my father had built." There was a pregnant pause that stretched for an eternity for Harry before Snape said, "And then I woke."

Harry sat there, spoon in his hand halfway to his mouth completely unable to form a coherent response to what Snape had just told him. The only thing he knew about Snape's father had been gathered from the rather unpleasant memories he'd see in Snape's mind in his Occlumency lessons. He sat there in his seat, feeling very much like a child, and started stirring his oatmeal.

Snape scoffed. "It's hardly a mystery, Potter, nor does it need to be overanalyzed." Snape looked highly amused as he told Harry, "My father was a muggle but he kept himself informed, at least somewhat, of what was going on in the wizarding world. When he learned of my beliefs and my intentions to join the Dark Lord, he tried to dissuade me from becoming a Death Eater."

Harry frowned at that. Although he highly doubted Snape's father had been evil, he had hardly seemed 'good' in the memories he'd seen in Snape's head. His expression must have been plain on his face because Snape looked at him and growled, "Is there any particular reason you find that so hard to believe, Potter?"

Harry flinched as he realized he'd upset the man and unwittingly insulted his father. Not exactly knowing how to calm the situation, he said, "Well, um... those times in our lessons... Whenever I saw your father, he, well... wasn't exactly being kind."

Snape raised an eyebrow at Harry's words yet again and with a voice of pure annoyance said, "And because my father yelled and screamed at my mother and I he automatically would have encouraged me to join a dark wizard at the tender age of eighteen?"

Well, if you looked at it that way, Harry thought, it did seem a bit unlikely. Before he could put his foot in his mouth again, Snape continued to berate him.

"Don't misunderstand me, Potter. Had my father been aware of the Order's existence, I highly doubt he would have encouraged me to take up arms and fight the good fight." This last was said snidely and Snape's long-fingered hand waved through the air as he displayed just what he thought of that idea. "My father was a passive lay-about who didn't believe in getting involved in anything that didn't revolve around a mortgage payment or a bottle of whiskey. His placement in my dream only represented my own desire to rest, which is something I cannot do."

Harry put his spoon down in his bowl, no longer capable of feigning hunger. "Except for this coming month or so. You could, you know." Harry looked at the man whose face was twisting in anger, and said with great hesitation, "If you wanted to. How long has it been since you've really rested?"

Snape sneered and growled at Harry, "You can rest all you'd like, Potter, but I, unfortunately, do not have that luxury. If you'll recall our conversation yesterday you can simply apply it to whatever foolish argument you're cooking up in that overtaxed brain of yours."

Sighing, Harry recalled every word that had come out of Snape's mouth last night on the floor by the sofa. It seemed Harry's forgiveness meant little to the man, much to Harry's chagrin. He wished that the Potions Master would take what Harry freely gave him but the man seemed hell-bent on blaming himself for every bad thing that had happened since the first war ended. Not wanting to repeat that argument, Harry sighed and said, "I didn't mean anything bad about your father. I just... say stupid things sometimes. Ignore me, really."

Snape gave a dark chuckle and nodded. "I assure you, Potter, I do. The number of inane statements that come out of your mouth is staggering at times."

Harry smiled, conceding the point, and watched Snape finish his breakfast in a companionable silence.

* * *

Harry swore as he struggled to grab Snape before his stumbling could send him falling to the ground. Harry knew he should have told the man to stop on the fifth time around the sofa, but Snape had been insistent that he make one more revolution around the room than he had yesterday.

"Shit." Harry swore again and gave up the battle, turning his body completely towards the other man, wrapping both arms around his very thin waist, and firmly embracing his professor. Snape's face was now inches away from his and his large nose bumped against Harry's forehead. Harry could feel hot breath on his face and ears as he held Snape's body to his own. Though the situation was awkward in the extreme, Harry couldn't help but think how wonderful it felt to finally embrace the man currently in his arms.

"Unhand me, Potter!" Snape bellowed, before Harry had a chance to think upon the strangeness of this thought, somehow appearing completely dignified though he was currently being held up like a rag doll. A deceptively heavy rag doll.

"How the bloody hell can you weigh so much when you're so bloody thin?" Harry continued to swear as he tried and failed to grab his wand from his pocket, hearing the thing fall on the floor then roll under the sofa.

Harry gave up trying to solve this problem using magic and began to half drag, half carry the man around the sitting room to the sofa.

"Potter, you're being utterly ridiculous and I demand you put me down at once!" Snape said as he weakly attempted to push Harry's arms off of him.

Harry stopped halfway to the sofa, panting a bit in exertion. "Okay, fine. If you can actually push me away, I'll put you down on the floor here and let you levitate yourself to the sofa. I'm not going to drop you, though. Madame Pomfrey read me the riot act for letting you bruise yourself all over that first day."

Snape brought his hands up to Harry's and failed miserably to apply any pressure at all. The Potions Master sighed and let his arms drop to a dead weight.

"Whoa," Harry said, as suddenly he felt all 200 pounds or so of Snape grow heavier instantly. He struggled to not allow the man to fall from his arms to the floor and a hand moved down to grab Snape's arse to try and balance the man out.

Harry heard an audible gasp and felt the intake of breath near his ear, as Snape's face was so near to his own. The man went completely still for a moment and Harry tried desperately to free his arm so as to remove both of them from this embarrassing situation.

Snape must have rallied because he softly muttered in Harry's ear, "I suggest you remove your hand from my arse immediately, Potter before I blast your own to oblivion."

"I'm trying, really," Harry said, finally feeling comfortable to let go of the man's bottom and grab him from the waist yet again. A few panted breaths later, Harry led them over the short distance to the sofa and plopped the man down in the center cushion, taking the seat on Snape's left.

Both men were panting and took a few moments to catch their breath as they stared into the fire.

Harry broke the silence first. "I know you want to do a little more every day, Snape, but you're pushing yourself too hard. You could have fallen and then where would we be?"

Snape turned to Harry and the younger man saw his head immediately snap back, as though Snape did not realize Harry was sitting only inches away from him.

"My recovery is exactly that, Potter- my own. As long as Poppy continues to declare my growing health in her daily visits, I'll continue to do what I think is best." Snape sank further into the couch cushions and said, "I'll remind you that you do not have to remain here. The headmaster did indeed inform you that he could have rooms made for you on a moment's notice."

Harry blanched and stiffened at the Potions Master's harsh words. The past few days with the man had been good- surprisingly good. Meal times were full of conversation and the days were spent reading books from Snape's shelves or sitting in companionable silence. And silence, Harry felt, was exactly what he needed right now. Here in the Potions Master's room he felt the freedom to be himself; to simply be Harry. When he felt the need to be alone he reveled in the fact that he felt comfortable in the Potions Master's company, not as though he had to act a certain way or needed to do anything.

Not to mention that the idea of leaving Snape left Harry feeling no small sense of trepidation. After a year of guilty suffering he was finally beginning to feel the heavy burden he had placed on himself lifting. Being in the presence of the only man who knew what Harry had gone through helped more than he could have hoped. He hated to admit it but he was beginning to rely on the man's friendship.

Realizing he had been silent a moment too long, Harry turned to Snape and said plainly, "Yeah, I know. But I'm not here for you, remember?"

Snape leaned further back into the cushions, distancing himself from Harry, and nodded. Harry broke his gaze and looked down to see their hands lying closely together on the sofa. Harry noticed that Snape's hands had been shaking less in the past few days, but the improvement wasn't nearly good enough for handling delicate ingredients, and the man could still barely walk besides. Harry couldn't help but absentmindedly wonder whether or not Snape would even be capable of returning to his lab in a week. The Potions Master's expectations of being able to brew again after only seven days recovering in his chambers was highly unlikely in Harry's opinion.

He looked at Snape's long-fingered hand, so close to his own, and ran his fingers over it. He looked up when he felt Snape flinch against the feather light touch. "Did I hurt you?" he asked.

Snape's face was straight and completely devoid of all emotion but his eyes were blaring something Harry couldn't identify. Harry continued to look at the man until Snape shook his head and said, "No, you did not."

Harry frowned and was about to ask why Snape had flinched when the man broke his stare and asked, "What will you be doing this evening, Potter? It's been days and you've yet to leave the dungeons. Have you not grown tired of wearing the same clothing for over a week?"

Harry looked down at his oversized shirt and blue jeans that he had been wearing in addition to Remus' adjusted clothes for the past few days now. The house elves would wash the outfits on the days he didn't wear them but he had to admit he wondered when and if Dumbledore would deliver his trunk.

Harry shrugged. "I'm almost afraid to go and ask the headmaster if he can get my trunk from my relatives for me. I'm half afraid he won't let me come back down here if I leave."

Snape looked at Harry, a pensive look on his face. He looked at him intently and said softly, "I would not worry so much, Potter. If the headmaster wanted you elsewhere he would have made it so by now." Snape looked away to the fire again, "Or at least given you one hell of a fight."

Harry laughed, nodding, and recalled the last discussion he'd had with the headmaster, when the man had been intent on keeping Snape in the dark in regard to Malfoy's plans. No, Harry thought, he doubted either one of them wanted to engage in another fight like that.

Remembering the reason why he was down in the dungeons in the first place, he looked at the man next to him and was silently grateful he was allowing Harry to stay with him. Harry doubted he would get a moment's peace if he had to worry about Malfoy getting his filthy hands on Snape while his back was turned.

Although he did not want to leave the Potions Master for long, he had been in the dungeons for several days now and wanted to see how Remus was doing. Harry stood up and said, "Um... do you mind, though, if I leave for a little while? Not for long," Harry put up a hand to stall an argument from Snape that was not forthcoming. "I just... want to check on Remus. It's been a couple of days since the full moon and I want to see him."

Snape took his time in answering and looked at Harry, saying slowly, "I don't think that's a very wise idea, Potter."

Harry frowned. He felt guilty enough as it was leaving Remus alone for so long. He knew his friend had to suffer the full moon alone but that didn't mean he had to suffer the days he spent recovering as well.

"But why? Full moon's past and it's got to be hell on Remus. Why shouldn't I visit him?"

Snape leaned back in the sofa and seemed to think carefully about his next choice of words. "How much do you actually know about lycanthropy, Potter? You know of the pain that Lupin goes through on the full moon, do you not?"

Harry nodded. He remembered all too well the days the man had missed in his third year and how sickly he had seemed after. It was all the more reason for him to go see his friend now.

"Tell me- what was it like being in Lupin's skin, feeling what he felt?"

Harry turned away from Snape and said softly, "It was awful pain. It wasn't anything like I'd ever felt before. It was constant and it was burning and it was everywhere. No one should have to feel pain like that."

Snape nodded. "I can imagine. Now you realize that you were feeling that pain weeks after his transformation on the full moon. How do you think Lupin is feeling right now?"

Harry turned to Snape and considered his question. His silence was the best answer he could come up with.

"Precisely. I imagine any additional rest he can possibly get would only be to his benefit."

Harry sat on the sofa next to Snape and thought about his friend suffering somewhere above him. When he looked down he saw Snape's hand was still twitching and failed to quell the instinct telling him to grab it. He slowly slid his hand over the Potions Master's, cupping it in his own.

The hand immediately stilled, as did the man attached to it.

"Exactly what do you think you're doing, Potter?"

Harry frowned and looked up at Snape, not truly understanding the question.

"Your hand was shaking," Harry said, pointing out the obvious. "And now it's not."

Snape looked down at their entwined hands. Harry waited with bated breath as he saw several emotions cross Snape's face; unfortunately, Harry couldn't identify any of them.

In the end Snape sighed and looked down again at their joined hands, and adjusted Harry's grip slightly, running his thumb over Harry's scar.

* * *

Snape's ordinary teaching robes were much rougher than the formal robes that Remus had worn to the funeral, Harry thought, keeping his hand on Snape's back as the man crossed the sitting room to the wall on the far right.

"Okay, if we're going to your lab shouldn't we be heading towards the front door and not a wall?"

Snape scoffed. "You've been living in the wizarding world for how long, Potter? Things aren't always as they seem." Snape took slower steps than he had in the past few days as he was wearing heavy boots and not his black house slippers. He seemed to be walking well enough on his own but Harry kept very close just in case.

Finally reaching the wall, Snape took out his wand and tapped the bricks three times before a wooden door with an iron knob appeared. Snape grabbed the knob but couldn't twist it open. Before the man's dignity could be injured more, Harry put his hand on the Potions Master's and pulled the door open for him.

For some reason he couldn't fathom, Harry left his hand on Snape's for an extra moment after the door was already open. The man had been recovering quickly and no longer needed to lean on Harry as much as he did in the beginning. Harry hated to admit to himself that he missed their physical contact. He lightly brushed his fingers over Snape's and enjoyed the feeling of Snape's hand under his own. It was beyond obvious to both of them that Harry enjoyed touching Snape, but he didn't entirely understand why. It was more than comfort now, Harry thought. Snape's presence alone helped him to deal with his lingering grief. But that didn't explain why Harry's eyes lingered on Snape's hands at every meal or why he missed feeling the man's body leaning on his. It was Snape who finally removed Harry's hand, cleared his throat and walked through the door with Harry on his heels.

Harry followed Snape through the door, and found himself in the Potions Master's office. He looked to the left and saw another door he recalled seeing during Occlumency lessons. "And this door leads to your private labs?"

Snape scoffed then muttered something under his breath to allow Harry to open the door. "Nothing gets past you, does it, Potter?" Fortunately for Harry, Snape was facing away from him as his eyes rolled. "Yes, this is my private lab. I keep the rare and higher quality ingredients here rather than in the school's stores... where just anyone could come in and take things."

Harry raised a hand in his defense at the blatant accusation. "I actually never took a thing from your stores, ever." Seeing the look of blatant distrust on Snape's face, Harry scoffed and earnest added, "Really."

Snape lifted an eyebrow and said, "Oh? Well never mind then, you've convinced me of your innocence. How could I not believe you after such a grand defense..."

Harry grinned as he helped the man to enter the room and sit in a desk near the door. "Fine, don't believe me. But I haven't taken a thing from your stores in my life."

Harry kept his hand on the warmth of Snape's back as he walked over to a low sitting desk with a chair and moved to sit down. Harry moved the hand that had been on Snape's back to settle around his waist as he knew that the walk had probably been a bit much for Snape and the chair he was aiming to sit in hardly looked comfortable enough to plop down on.

Snape scowled at him but said nothing. He opened a drawer at the table he was sitting at and took out a quill, parchment and ink. His hand shook only slightly as he began to write and Harry turned away from him to take in the room.

It was brightly lit for being in the dungeons. There were three long tables set up in the room and sinks on all sides. On the wall directly in front of the door they had come through was the storeroom Snape had spoken of. Along the walls hung cauldrons of all sizes.

"Here," Snape said, causing Harry to turn around and accept the piece of parchment that was thrust into his hands. "I need you to retrieve these ingredients from the storeroom for me." Snape pointed to the room Harry had noticed. "I sincerely hope you're a better at potions during the summer than you are during the year, Potter. You're going to be put to the test today."

Harry smiled and took that as a personal challenge. He thought he might be able to do better than he usually did during the year. The Potions Master had let up on him slightly in the past year due to the obvious change in his behavior but that still didn't stop Malfoy from flinging things into his cauldron nor did it mean that Snape had been a better teacher.

Harry went off to the store room as he heard Snape softly call out, "_Accio_ silver-lined medium size caldron, _accio_ silver-lined small size caldron." He was still summoning things when Harry entered the small storeroom where he could no longer hear him.

When he returned, his arms full of bottles, Harry saw Snape had moved to one of the larger tables and had two small fires burning under the cauldrons he had summoned. He carefully put down the ingredients and put his hands in his pockets and tried to stay out of Snape's way, unwilling to make a nuisance of himself while the man prepared the base.

Pushing forward the belladonna, dried nettles, stewed horned slugs and porcupine quills, Snape said, "These all need to be very finely diced." As Harry picked up one of the knives laying on the table, Snape held up a hand and said, "Diced, Potter. Not chopped, not sliced, but diced. This will be all for naught if not done correctly."

Harry nodded and tried his absolute best to dice all the ingredients perfectly. The base of whatever potion they were making must have been simple to make because Snape was peering into the two cauldrons to check their consistency.

Once Harry had finished dicing everything to perfection, Snape nodded and gave clear and concise directions in how to add them. The Potions Master used his wand to move the stirring rod clockwise, then counter clock wise as Harry added the quills to the base, then the belladonna, and nettles. The slugs went into the smaller cauldron, stewing alone and giving off a putrid odor.

Snape nodded and sat back in his chair, suddenly appearing exhausted. Harry looked at him, concerned. "Are you all right, Snape?"

Snape nodded and put a hand on his forehead. "Yes, Potter, I'm fine. I didn't expect this to be easy but neither did I think it would be this difficult."

Harry silently agreed.

Snape looked up from behind his hand. "Tell me, Potter... Why do you appear to be a decent student now rather than the clumsy idiot you appear to be during the year?"

Harry frowned. If Snape hadn't figured that out already then there was no helping him. He scoffed and said, "Look, I know I'm not great at this. I never will be, but I'm not awful at it either. When you weren't constantly breathing down my neck this year, didn't my grades improve a little?"

"There was a small improvement but nothing to be overly proud of. You merely ceased to be awful and became mediocre."

Harry's frowned deepened, "Well, to answer your question- first of all, I don't have Malfoy throwing things in my cauldron right now so I don't have to stir and shield at the same time. Also, in addition to your not constantly berating me, you actually explained the proper way of doing things. You don't usually do that, you know."

"Are you disparaging my ability to teach my students?" Snape glared.

Green eyes met black and Harry only paused for a moment before answering, "A bit, yeah."

Snape growled and leaned forward. "Just because I do not pamper my students does not mean I am not an adequate educator."

"Pamper? More like treat decently. Do you remember my first day of class? You had it out for me from the beginning!"

Snape sneered, but did not seem angry. "Yes, perhaps I did. What of it, Potter?" Snape almost seemed to be challenging Harry with his eyes.

Harry sighed, refusing to allow his anger over this to destroy the tentative friendship he was enjoying with the Potions Master. Harry needed to explain to the man how wrong he had been in his opinion of him. Now that the issue was on the table, Harry felt it needed to finally be addressed. He might never have the chance to talk about this with Snape again and he wanted it all out in the open. He felt an urgent need for the Potions Master to understand him as much as possible. More than anyone, he wanted Snape to know him.

"From the first moment I set foot in this room, you made it seem as though I was some celebrity that wanted special treatment when all I wanted was to be a normal student. Merlin, Snape, before I got my Hogwarts letter I didn't even know magic existed. I only learned about my parents and Voldemort when I came here. I hate that. I hate that people think they know me because they've read my story in the papers."

Snape growled and said, "I realize I was lax while in the infirmary, Potter, but I will ask you again not to say his name." When Harry began to protest, Snape held up a hand. "A favor, Potter. Or out of respect, whichever you find more appealing."

Harry nodded and there was silence for a few moments before Snape spoke again. "I realize now that your upbringing was... unpleasant, to say the least. I did not know it at the time. I know that in the recent years the media has been excessively hard on you, but they've also praised you. You cannot tell me that you didn't enjoy at least a small amount of all the attention."

Harry looked at Snape as though he was mad. Was that actually what Snape thought of him? He knew that his face revealed his every thought but he was glad for it. He wanted Snape to know what he thought of that statement, how hurtful that thought was.

He thought of Remus' question after that run-in with Malfoy and asked, "Is that really what you think of me, Snape? I mean, I know you like to pretend you're a heartless bastard, but is that really how you see me?"

Several looks crossed Snape's face, one of which Harry had never seen before. Anger of course, presumably for calling him a heartless bastard; shock that Harry had dared to speak to him like that. But the final expression was more difficult to discern. After a moment, Harry decided that the man looked properly chastened for the first time in Harry's memory. He had seemed to concede the point when Remus had made it, but right now he looked regretful that he had caused Harry any pain.

"If I'm incorrect in my assumptions, Potter, feel free to inform me."

Harry looked at his hands and then the lightly simmering cauldrons between them. He considered how to properly answer the question. "After my fourth year when all of those articles were printed about the Tri-Wizard Tournament... everyone looked at me differently. I mean, yeah, in my second year everyone thought I was going to set Slytherin's monster on them but that was just the students.

"After fourth year, everyone looked at me in one extreme or the other. They either thought I was completely off my nut or they were die-hard supporters and equated my name with the defeat of all the evil in the world."

Harry looked up and saw Snape listening to him intently. Harry gulped a bit and returned his gaze to his hands. "Every time I meet someone, they don't see me for me. I mean, it's like they feel that they already know me. And whether that me is a hero or a lunatic is completely up to them; up to what articles they choose to believe in the Prophet. But they don't know me, they don't want to. Why would you want to be wrong about a hero, or have to change your mind about a lunatic? People don't want to know me, so they never will."

Snape nodded and put his forefinger on his lips in thought. "Surely your friends know you, Potter. You're very fortunate to have people who stand beside you regardless of your standing in society."

Harry looked at the finger on Snape's mouth before moving up to his eyes. He nodded and stated solemnly, "Yes."

There was silence between them again before Snape said, "_Accio_ pomegranate extract."

Harry watched as Snape caught the floating jar and then, hand shaking, handed it to Harry. "Add two drops of this to the larger cauldron."

Harry did so and Snape used his wand to direct the stirring rod.

Snape sighed and sat down in his chair, looking exhausted. "It will be some time before we can begin to practice Occlumency or defense, but we can discuss the theories behind them... particularly those you would not have learned in class. While these simmer, tell me, Potter," Snape said, an odd look in his eye, "What do you know of shielding charms?"

* * *

Remus Lupin walked the hallways of the dungeons, smiling as he took in familiar territory. It had been quite a while since he had been to this level of Hogwarts. Severus usually came to him to deliver the wolfsbane potion that was made for him four years ago.

He slowly approached the door that led to Severus' private potions lab and stilled before entering. A look of surprise came over his face as he overheard laughter- Harry's laughter and then Severus saying, "You're mad, Potter. It can't be done without a strong shielding charm and a trampoline. Anything less would be suicide."

Harry laughed again and said, "Where would you get a trampoline in the middle of battle? You could transfigure one, I guess, but-- look this is easier. I'm going to try it, only you cast the levitation charm and then-"

Curiosity won over stealth as Remus opened the door. His eyes were wide in astonishment as he saw Harry standing on top of one of the unoccupied tables, a large smile on his face and his laughter lingering in the air.

The even greater surprise was seeing the corner of Severus' lip upturned and the mirth dancing in his eyes. Both men seemed to deflate as they turned to look at Remus. Harry's green eyes widened while Snape cleared his throat and stirred a cauldron, both acting as if they'd been caught at something.

Harry quickly got off the table and cleared his throat. "Remus! So glad to see you." Remus watched Harry walk towards the doorway, feeling extremely uncomfortable, as if he had interrupted something intimate.

Harry continued speaking. "I'm sorry I didn't go see you but..."

Hating the look of guilt in Harry's face, Remus smiled and quickly said, "I'm fine now, Harry. And yes, as I'm sure Severus told you, any rest I can get is a great help." He put an arm around Harry, lightly embracing him, then turned to Severus.

"Good afternoon, Severus. How are you feeling?"

"I was feeling fine until now. Ask me again as you're leaving, Lupin."

Remus chuckled at what he hoped was a friendly jab. "I actually came down here to give you something, Harry. I'm sure you'll be glad to get back into your own clothes again."

With that, Remus removed a small object from his pocket, placed it on the floor, and uttered a charm. Harry put a hand on his trunk and was visibly relieved to see it again. "Thank you, Remus." Harry ran a finger over the worn shirt he was wearing. "I'll give this back to you as soon as it's been washed, alright?"

Remus nodded and smiled at him again. Harry put the trunk in the corner of the room and then went to stand in between the two men; Snape sitting at a table with two cauldrons and Remus standing by the door. Harry shuffled his feet and looked between them, the silence growing.

Snape was looking into the cauldrons, seeming not to notice the almost tangible quiet growing inbetween the men.

"What are you brewing, Severus?" Remus finally asked.

"It remains to be seen, as Potter was the one to prepare the ingredients. It could be a healing potion or it could be nettle soup. I'll inform you of my decision when the potion's finished."

Remus smiled and continued to watch as Harry put his hands in his pockets, still looking between the two of them and occasionally giving an awkward smile.

"Am I interrupting something...?"

"No," Harry said quickly. "We were just talking. Nothing big, just killing time while the potion brews."

Again, silence. The only person who seemed to be amused by it was Severus as he smirked and used his wand to stir one cauldron clockwise and the other in the opposite direction.

Feeling very much like a third wheel, Remus said, "Well, I'll be going then. Harry, you're free to visit me when you like."

Harry smiled. "I'll be by soon. Just going to finish up here."

Remus said goodbye to Severus and turned and walked into the hall, shutting the door behind him.

As he left he heard Harry say, "Oh, shut up. You know you like him too. Now about that charm--"

Remus began to walk away from the door, feeling almost as if he had been eavesdropping.

* * *

Harry used a small ladle to pour part of the finished potion into a bowl, as Snape had asked, while the Potions Master used a charm to clean the cauldrons and all the supplies that had been used. He bottled the rest and put it aside. He did all this and put all the instruments back into their places by the time Harry had finished pouring the now purple-looking salve.

"So, nettle soup or healing potion?" Harry asked.

Snape looked at the potion and dipped a single finger into it, taking a minute amount and feeling its consistency. He brought the finger up to his nose and took a strong whiff. "A passable salve. Perhaps you are good for something other than being a human cane, Potter."

Harry chuckled and leaned back in his chair. "Is it for the infirmary, then?"

Snape shook his head. "No. It's for you."

Harry frowned and gave Snape a look of confusion. "Me? But I'm fine; I don't need a healing potion."

Snape put the bowl off to the side and gathered a large amount of the salve into his hand. "Give me your right hand, Potter."

Harry obeyed, though still confused. Snape lightly took Harry's hand in his left, turning it palm down. He then carefully applied the salve over the thin, white scar between his index finger and his thumb.

"Oh."

"Yes. I can't change what happened, but I can do this."

Harry looked up as Snape said this but the dark eyes were watching the scar on his hand. Snape held his hand tenderly and gently massaged the salve into his flesh. Harry watched in fascination as the scar that had blighted his hand for the last two years began to disappear under Snape's gentle ministrations.

After a few minutes of this the scar had completely disappeared, and Harry said nothing as Snape continued to hold his hand, silently enjoying the man's presence and his fingers going over his own.


	15. Interlude

Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling. I do not own Harry Potter and I make no profit from this little fic.

Warnings: **This** i**s not Chapter 14; this is a mini chapter**. Please read Chapter 14 "Evidence of Things Not Seen" before reading this as this is adapted from an excerpt of that chapter.

Author's Notes: This was originally titled "The Scene in Which Harry Grabs Snape's Ass as Seen From Snape's Point of View for the Lovely Torina."

My wonderful beta, Torina, managed to edit an 11,000 worded chapter in one day. As a gift to her, she asked to see Snape's POV during the scene in Ch. 14 in which Harry grabs Snape's ass. Seeing as how I love Torina so much, it was no hardship. Also, thanks to her for betaing her own gift for me.

* * *

Severus Snape stumbled a bit after his fifth rotation around the sofa in his sitting room, grabbing Harry as much as he could to keep himself from falling. In the end, however, his own grip had nothing on the deceptively strong arms of Gryffindor's star seeker.

"Shit." Harry whispered the expletive right next to his ear. Snape was distracted by the warm breath that was suddenly on his neck and chastising Harry for his foul language completely slipped his mind. Suddenly, the exhale of breath by his ear was the least of his problems as Harry brought his own body around to completely embrace Snape's, holding him up with both arms by his waist.

Snape paused for just a moment and glanced down to the messy head of dark hair that was currently struggling to hold him.

He shouldn't be doing this; he shouldn't be feeling this way. He most definitely shouldn't be so aroused at having that warm body press against his. His nose bumped against Harry's forehead and it took all his control to not allow himself to smell the young man's hair, to run his nose over Harry's face and neck, to simply inhale the scent of him.

But Snape did not do any of these things. He simply stood there, being held up like some puppet with its strings cut, and acted the part of the nobly suffering patient with an inadequate nursemaid.

"Unhand me, Potter!" Snape bellowed, both wanting Harry to leave him be and embrace him further at the same time. He cursed his own physical impairment but was grateful that he did not have to restrain the rest of his body from grabbing Harry's face in his hands, prying open his lips with his tongue and giving him a kiss so long in coming. The curse's affects were preventing that which, as far as he could see, was the only positive thing to come out of it.

"How the bloody hell can you weigh so much when you're so bloody thin?" Harry continued to swear as he tried and failed to grab his wand from his pocket. Snape sighed a bit after hearing the thing fall on the floor then roll under the sofa.

Harry must have given up trying to solve this problem using magic and began to half drag, half carry Snape around the sitting room to the sofa.

"Potter, you're being utterly ridiculous and I demand you put me down at once!" Snape said as he weakly attempted to push Harry's arms off of him.

It was all too much. Harry's face was inches from his own, his firm chest and broad shoulders were pushed up against him. Harry's arms were firm in the grasp of his waist and it was becoming pure torture to have the object of his desires so close to him and not be able to touch him.

Harry stopped halfway to the sofa, panting a bit in exertion. "Okay, fine. If you can actually push me away, I'll put you down on the floor here and let you levitate yourself to the sofa. I'm not going to drop you, though. Madame Pomfrey read me the riot act for letting you bruise yourself all over that first day."

He could do this. He was not so weak that he could not push the young man away from him. Perhaps six times around the room in as many days was a bit much to hope for but Snape had always been a stubborn patient. He picked up his arms and placed his hands on the small biceps of the younger man and stifled a gasp at how firm he found them. Small, yes, but pleasantly so. Snape began to lose control over his own arousal and before he could embarrass himself or worse, frighten Harry, he let go of the strong arms and conceded defeat. The Potions Master sighed and let his arms drop to a dead weight.

"Whoa," Harry said, as all of Snape's 180 pounds were suddenly rested upon him. The young man struggled to not allow Snape to fall, but at this point, he welcomed the hard floor as opposed to the hell he was currently trapped in. To have Harry so close but to not-

Snape could not restrain the audible gasp as he felt Harry's hand descend onto his arse.

_Oh dear Merlin._

This was punishment, Snape decided. It wasn't enough that he had to endure torture and uncertainty that came from being a spy against the greatest dark lord that ever lived. No, apparently that cruel bitch, Fate, decided to let him grow so near to something that he could have. Never taste, never feel.

Harry's hand on his arse burned Snape with all the potency of fire. To be touched in such an intimate place by this beautiful young man was simultaneously the very height of ecstasy and one of the most cruel things that had ever happened to him.

Yes, it was a very good thing that he could barely move his arms, otherwise Harry Potter would have been very surprised to find himself being picked up by his own arse and thrown onto the sofa where he'd surely be stripped and find himself being kissed licked up and down by an impassioned Potions Master.

Snape adjusted his leg as he lost the battle against his own raging erection so as not to frighten the younger man. It would not do to have Harry know of this... abomination that Snape felt for him. He would not take away the young man's safe haven because as much as it continued to surprise him, he knew that was what his chambers currently were for Harry- a warm, welcoming place where he could be safe.

Rallying himself to put on the performance of a lifetime, Snape leaned low into Harry's ear and said, "I suggest you remove your hand from my arse immediately, Potter before I blast your own to oblivion."

"I'm trying, really," Harry said, who adjusted his grip enough to let go of the Snape's bottom and grabbed him from the waist yet again. As with everything concerning Harry these days, Snape both rejoiced and lamented the loss of that hand.

Harry grunted and continued half dragging, half carrying the Potions Master to the sofa, where he helped Snape to sit on the middle cushion.

Snape was panting and took a few moments to catch his breath as he stared into the fire. Next to him, he could feel Harry doing the same. He was finally in a calm state of mind when Harry broke the silence.

"I know you want to do a little more every day, Snape, but you're pushing yourself too hard. You could have fallen and then where would we be?"

Snape turned to Harry and immediately snapped his head back as he found Harry to be much closer than he had expected. Harry was sitting next to him on the sofa, almost on top of him. Snape forced himself to address the statement and looked into green eyes.

"My recovery is exactly that, Potter- my own. As long as Poppy continues to declare my growing health in her daily visits, I'll continue to do what I think is best." Snape sank further into the couch cushions and thought about his next words. Though he would hate to have Harry leave, he did not want the younger man to feel as though he had to stay. These rooms may be a haven for him now when Harry's grief was still so near, but that did not mean it would always be so. "I'll remind you that you do not have to remain here. The headmaster did indeed inform you that he could have rooms made for you on a moment's notice."

Snape felt more than saw Harry blanched and stiffened at his harsh words, and he could see the open look of fear in his eyes. How had he come to mean so much to the young man after such a short period of time? Looks like the one Harry was giving him did nothing to sooth the ache that came from seeing Harry and being in his presence for all his waking hours. He did not deserve to have such looks directed at him. Beautiful, brave young men did not look at Severus Snape that way, nor should they. But Snape took it as he took everything that came from Harry- with full knowledge that this was just another sacrifice on his part. That being in the presence of such a magnificent, untouchable young man was part of his penance and that helping Harry was something only he could do.

Though he had to admit to himself that he enjoyed the young man's company far too much. While it was painful seeing Harry across his make-shift breakfast table every morning, he admitted that his absence would be twice as painful.

Harry was quiet in his fear for a long minute before he said plainly, "Yeah, I know. But I'm not here for you, remember?"

Snape leaned further back into the cushions, distancing himself from Harry, and nodded. Harry broke his gaze and looked down to the seat of the sofa. Snape aimed his eyes downward but did not move his head.

Snape sighed a bit as he took in his pale shaking hands next to Harry's healthy-looking ones. He knew now that his efforts to build up strength in order to return to his lab in the next few days were impossible to achieve. There was no way he'd be able to stand at a table for an hour. He could barely keep his fingers from twitching now. Snape turned his eyes away from the offensive digits and returned his gaze to the fire, distracted only a moment later by the feather light brush of fingers over his.

Snape flinched and looked down to where Harry had run his fingers lightly over his own.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked.

Hurt him? Snape had never experienced such kind touches in all his life.

The memory of bedding dozens of strangers over the years came back to him in a flash as he took in the impossibly green eyes only inches away. No, he'd never known a touch like that. He had grabbed and been grabbed, fondled, sucked and had fucked men; most of whose names he'd never known.

But no. No one had never simply run their fingers over his hand.

Snape's fought to keep his face straight, but doubted even he could keep the raw desire from flooding his eyes. Harry continued to look at him until Snape shook his head and said, "No, you did not."

Harry frowned and opened his mouth, no doubt to ask some question that would be very difficult if not impossible to answer. Snape beat him to the punch. "What will you be doing this evening, Potter? It's been days and you've yet to leave the dungeons. Have you not grown tired of wearing the same clothing for over a week?"

Harry looked down at his oversized shirt and blue jeans that he had been wearing in addition to Lupin's adjusted clothes for the past few days now. He really did look odd in them, Snape thought, but also realized that with a family such as his these clothes were probably the best he could have hoped for.

Harry shrugged. "I'm almost afraid to go and ask the headmaster if he can get my trunk from my relatives for me. I'm half afraid he won't let me come back down here if I leave."

Snape looked at Harry, amused. Was the young man so content here that he would risk cabin fever before he allowed the headmaster to remove him? He looked at him intently and said softly, "I would not worry so much, Potter. If the headmaster wanted you elsewhere he would have made it so by now." Snape looked away to the fire again, "Or at least given you one hell of a fight."

Harry laughed, then joined Snape in looking at the fire and sobered quickly. Snape did not ask what was on the young man's mind but the frown that came quickly upon his face was curious, as was the slight glare in his eye.

It did not take such a jump of logic to realize Harry must have been thinking about Draco.

Draco Malfoy who was currently planning and plotting to mingle Snape's soul with his own.

As he had whenever this subject came to mind, Snape calmed himself from the flash of fear and dread by telling himself that he was being careful- even in his own rooms. And he would continue to take every caution when the school year began. He would not find himself bound to a Malfoy. Death would come first.

As Snape's mind wandered over his current predicament, Harry stood up and said, "Um... do you mind, though, if I leave for a little while? Not for long," Harry put up a hand to stall some imagined argued that Snape was not about to give. If Harry wanted to take a walk around the castle Snape would not deny him. "I just... want to check on Remus. It's been a couple of days since the full moon and I want to see him."

Oh.

As much as he knew Harry enjoyed the werewolf's presence, it had still only been a few days since the full moon. Though he knew Lupin was most likely up and capable of functioning, he also knew that he would gain additional strength with more rest. Snape took his time in answering and looked at Harry, saying slowly, "I don't think that's a very wise idea, Potter."

Harry frowned, no doubt feeling as though Snape was keeping him from visiting his friend for malicious reasons.

"But why? Full moon's past and it's got to be hell on Remus. Why shouldn't I visit him?"

Snape leaned back in the sofa and carefully thought out his next choice of words. "How much do you actually know about lycanthropy, Potter? You know of the pain that Lupin goes through on the full moon, do you not?"

Harry nodded, no doubt recalling his recent adventure involving polyjuice.

"Tell me- what was it like being in Lupin's skin, feeling what he felt?"

Harry turned away from Snape and said softly, "It was awful pain. It wasn't anything like I'd ever felt before. It was constant and it was burning and it was everywhere. No one should have to feel pain like that."

Snape nodded. "I can imagine. Now you realize that you were feeling that pain weeks after his transformation on the full moon. How do you think Lupin is feeling right now?"

Harry turned to Snape and seemed to consider the question. Apparently, silence was the best answer he could come up with.

"Precisely. I imagine any additional rest he can possibly get would only be to his benefit."

Harry sat on the sofa next to Snape and deflated. As much as he hated to see Harry look so defeated, Snape knew it would be to Lupin's benefit to get as much quality rest as he could take. In Snape's mind, anything that benefited Lupin benefited Harry, seeing as how the young man so hated to see his friend in pain.

Snape was forcibly torn from his thoughts as a hand grazed his own and then moved to cup it. Snape immediately stilled and with baited breath realized what was happening.

Harry was holding his hand. Snape looked over at Harry, and saw that the young man had a look of complete innocence and contentment on his face. Looking into green eyes, Snape knew that Harry had no idea what he was doing. The young man had no clue as to his own appeal nor did he understand Snape's reactions.

Summoning all of his skills, he fought against his own desires and put what he was sure was at most a half-hearted sneer on his face as he prepared to put on the act of the century.

"Exactly what do you think you're doing, Potter?"

Harry frowned and looked up at Snape, his face marred with confusion.

"Your hand was shaking," Harry said, as though he was pointing out the obvious. "And now it's not."

Snape looked down at their entwined hands. He saw the smaller one in his and tried his best not to grip it tightly to his chest, to claim the young man next to him. Yes, the act of the century indeed. The Dark Lord himself had never seen Snape jump through such hoops as he was now.

He took his eyes off their hands and looked into the fire, only to realize that there was no removing that image from his mind's eye. The remembrance of Harry's hand in his the other night in the infirmary burned on his memory and he knew that this was one fight he would not win. He wouldn't take his hand away from Harry's, not when he could feel those green eyes on him, so afraid of being turned away.

In the end Snape sighed and looked down again at their joined hands.

_I must not tell lies._

It was a disgrace for such a statement to be marked onto the hand of a young man that told the truth so easily. He closed his eyes and ran his thumb over the scar, his mind running over healing salves, and for a moment, allowed himself to be content. He couldn't take back what had happened but he could do something about this.


	16. The Stag and the Doe

Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling and I do not own Harry Potter.

Author's Notes: A thousand apologies for taking so long with this chapter. I have the entire story outlined and know where the characters have to be by the end of it. It took nearly 16,000 words for our boys to arrive in this one. Hopefully it was worth the wait. With chapters getting a bit longer update time may be slowed but I promise never to abandon this fic. Ever. White Cotton has said she will fly over and beat me and my beta, Torina, with her Snape doll if we even think about it.

That being said, if there are any questions on what the status of the next chapter is, you can always PM me or find me on the yahoo group severussighs. *waves to all her friends there*

Thank you to Laurenke1 for a read and to my lovely beta Torina Archelda who betaed this whole thing while going to school full time and working on projects of her own. Also, thanks to canon-beta White Cotton for a brit-pick and last minute grammar wash. All remaining mistakes are my own. (And one split infinitive belongs to Torina. It's a long story).

* * *

It was late.

It was very late.

It was so late that Snape was considering forgoing sleep that night and would have if it hadn't meant a verbal lashing from that shrew of a mediwitch in the morning when she came in for his daily check-up.

But the sound of Harry's voice and his intermittent laughter was so fulfilling that he hadn't had the heart to get up from his sofa and heed the call his very comfortable bed was giving him. Sleep meant leaving this place and it meant leaving Harry's presence and he quickly found that his desire for sleep was nothing compared to his desire for the young man sitting next to him.

"Alright, here's one for you," the young man said, one leg folded under the other and facing Snape. "If there is a heaven, and it could be anything at all, anything you wanted it to be... what would it be for you?"

Snape couldn't help the snort that came from his nostrils nor the roll of his eyes as he heard Harry's inquiry. He had been asking inane, meaningless questions like this all night, but Snape never once ignored them. The delight Harry took in his sardonic answers was enough reason to suffer the adolescent inquisition. However, that didn't mean he wouldn't make his opinion known. Truth be told, he enjoyed how his retorts to Harry's questions were received and never tired of the other's laughter.

"Congratulations, Potter. I didn't think it possible but you've managed to outdo your 'If you could have any animangus form, what would it be?' inquiry. Really, I've no idea how that infantile mind of yours manages to put a sentence together in the first place."

Harry nudged Snape's knee with his. These little grazes were becoming more and more frequent but Snape still reveled in each touch, each little gift of intimacy that Harry didn't even realize he was granting him.

"Come on, Snape. These are great questions. It's suppose to make you question yourself, try to figure out what you love most in life. Whatever that is, that's what heaven would be like for you." Harry squinted a bit in thought and said, "So you, maybe, I don't know... would have a huge potions lab with loads of rare ingredients to play with and nothing would ever explode and every potion would come out exactly right." Harry smiled at his own guess. "Something like that."

Snape scoffed and said, "You and the headmaster are alike in this aspect, Potter- you both seem to assume that I live and breathe for my love of potions." At Harry's guilty look, Snape mentally berated himself for comparing Harry to the man who had spent the better part of a year completely ignoring him and quickly regrouped. "I do love, potions, Potter. I even like teaching to some extent-"

"Really?" Harry asked with false astonishment in his eyes.

"Hmph," Snape grunted before continuing. "Perhaps there'd be a lab of some sort in any kind of paradise I inhabit but that isn't what I'd do all day. Man cannot live on potions alone."

Harry chuckled lowly and said, "Alright, Snape, stupid guess. What would your heaven be like then?"

What Snape wanted to say was, 'There is no way I'm going to indulge you in this overly simplistic game of yours, Potter,' or 'That would be absolutely none of your business, now is it, you simpleton?' but what he actually said was--

"I imagine it would be something very much like this."

Snape's own eyes widened as he heard the words come out of his mouth and he could not stop as his head turned to face Harry's, the young man's own eyes wide with astonishment. The silence was thick between them and the only sound that Snape could hear was the faint crackling of the fire and the violent beating of his heart.

Before Snape could even backtrack and recede to his old vitriol, insulting Harry and blaming him for everything evil in the world, Harry softly whispered, "Is it like that for you, too?"

And with that the young man crossed the two or three inches that had kept them apart. Almost on top of him, Snape watched as Harry hesitantly stopped his assault, almost as if he was giving Snape an opportunity to push him away. When no such denial came, Harry approached him, placing his hands on Snape's shoulders, leaned over and lightly brushed his lips over the Potions Master's.

He couldn't truly call it a kiss, as neither of their lips moved against the other but that was quickly rectified as Harry placed a soft but equally innocent kiss on his lips again. This time, he felt as Harry's lips moved across his own, completely dry and very uncertain but still... it was a kiss.

Harry pulled back a bit, a stunned look in his eyes and looking for all the world as though he feared Snape was going to hex him into next Tuesday.

That beautiful look of innocence.

That brave act betrayed by the look of hesitation in those green eyes.

As though Snape could ever resist what Harry had to offer.

Something in Snape broke. The hold on his desire that he took so much pride in snapped under the pressure of Harry's unknowing assault. He ran a hand through Harry's hair and pulled the young man to him, kissing him with a force so strong he was sure he'd cut his own lip on his teeth.

Immediately, Snape took control over the situation. Whereas Harry's kiss had been tentative and innocent, Snape's was passionate and mad. He opened his own lips to tease Harry's, marveling in the distinctive taste of him. His heart soared as he heard the soft gasp Harry gave at Snape's fervor.

Harry really didn't taste of anything more than the pudding they'd eaten a few hours prior, but to Snape it was the most intoxicating flavor he'd ever come across in this life.

Kneading Harry's lips with his own, Snape quickly thrust his tongue into Harry's mouth and paused for a moment with bated breath. He stilled himself and waited until he could feel the shy tip of Harry's tongue touch his own.

Moaning, Snape gripped Harry's head harder and leaned over the young man, his tongue still mingling with Snape's and did not stop until Harry was underneath him, Snape's erection grazing Harry's thigh. Finally having the young man under him caused Snape to moan louder as he lightly thrust his cock against Harry's body.

Snape stopped suddenly at the gasp that was heard from underneath him. Not a moan of pleasure but a gasp of fear. He took his lips off Harry's, the audible sound of moisture leaving moisture filling the silence of the room.

Snape looked down to see what had startled Harry and was taken aback to see the outright look of disgust and horror in those bright green eyes.

A bit too late, Snape realized he still had his lower body draped across Harry's and that was, without a doubt, what had caused this sudden outburst from the younger man.

His body's reaction to Harry rapidly calming down, Snape quickly sat up as smoothly as he could, not wanting to frighten the young man further.

Like an animal quickly retreating from its prey, Harry stumbled as he struggled to sit up, never taking his eyes off Snape. He ran a hand through messy hair and spent a moment simply catching his breath, his eyes on the floor.

Of all Snape's sins, none seemed larger than the one he was staring in the face at this moment. He'd never felt more filthy in his life; not when he'd call Lily a mudblood, not when he had taken the Mark, not when he had heard the news that his friend was dead and he had killed her.

Nothing compared to this.

Slowly, Harry turned to look at him. The look of disgust marring that lovely young face was too much to bear.

What had he done?

This was supposed to be a safe place for Harry, a sanctuary.

_Heaven._

"Harry, I -" but Snape was stalled as Harry put a hand up and stood up from the couch. Snape stood with him and Harry immediately turned to face him, backing away slowly.

"Wait, please..." Snape begged. He faintly recalled the last time he had begged for something and with great remorse remembered how well it ended up for him then.

Harry's face twisted into something awful. Gone was the beautiful smile and the mirth in his eyes. What was left was cold and cruel and struck down deep into Snape's heart.

"Why would I stay, Snape? Why would I stay here... with you and your-" Harry put his hands on his head and covered his eyes, seeming to avoid looking at Snape. "God, I can't believe I let you touch me! I can't believe I let an evil thing like you anywhere near me!"

Snape could barely argue against that. Why should Harry stay with a man such as him? Hadn't this been what he had desired all along? To find a way to have Harry leave? Leave him to his solitude, leave him to penance, and, when he was finally gone, his misery? Why was he begging the young man to stay?

"I apologize, Potter. I don't know what I was thinking."

"No, you didn't think. And I didn't either." Harry said maliciously. "We weren't thinking at all. If you'd been thinking," pointing his finger at him, Harry said very slowly, "then you'd have realized that I could never want you. And if I had been thinking, I'd have never let you anywhere near me. I'd have thought about everything you've done to me- how you killed my parents and sentenced me to a life of hell with people who hated me."

Snape shook his head but remained silent. Everything out of Harry's mouth was the truth but the words fell from his mouth like lashes on Snape's soul. Every fear, every failure, every sin was being broadcast out of Harry's mouth.

Harry shook his head in his anger but his face seemed twisted in grief. "There's an evil wizard that wants to kill me because of you, Snape. He wouldn't have known about the prophecy if you hadn't told him." Harry's voice grew louder as he released an anger that seemed to have been building for years.

"And you don't even blame yourself, you blame Fate! You tried to pawn that off on... what? God? Or the devil? What is this 'Fate' you keep talking about that somehow forces you to make horrible decisions? As if you can't make them on your own." Harry issued a hysterical laugh and sneered. "I can't believe you actually tried to make up such a lame excuse."

Snape wanted to protest, to tell Harry that he _had_ been an instrument of Fate; that he knew somehow, someone would have brought the Dark Lord the prophecy, but what did it matter? Harry was right. Perhaps it hadn't been necessary for Snape to deliver the prophecy himself but what difference did it make? In the end, it had been Snape who had taken the prophecy to the Dark Lord and destroyed Harry's life. Anything else was irrelevant.

"You killed my mother, your best friend, to what end? To become the highest ranked Death Eater?" Harry looked at Snape and sneered, the gesture looking awful on that beautiful young face. "You disgust me."

Harry took a few more steps towards the door, walking backwards and never taking his eyes off Snape. "My best friend is dead because of you, Snape. All of this," Harry waved his arms around the room widely, "is because of you. If you hadn't delivered the prophecy to Voldemort then I wouldn't be here. I'd be at home... with my mom and dad... and Sirius."

Snape watched as an angry tear leaked from Harry's eye.

"But I'm not. I'm here with you... hiding out in the dungeons like some monster. And it's all because of you, you evil, soulless bastard."

Harry walked slowly to the door of his rooms, quickly turned around, and left, slamming the door on his way out.

It was the slamming of a door that woke him; Snape took a harsh gasp of air and shot into a sitting position on his bed.

"Damn," Harry swore lightly as he exited Snape's bathroom in the dark. "Um... Snape?"

Snape put his hands over his eyes and tried to will the remnants of that awful dream away, tried to banish to look of disgust in Harry's beautiful eyes, to forget the feeling of absolute pain as he realized that Harry's reaction to Snape's desire for him was not only natural, but expected. Why would a good and handsome young man like Harry react any other way?

Snape had no right to be lusting after Harry; the young man had every reason to hate him. The fact that he did not was only a testament to Harry's own overwhelming mercy and forgiveness.

To take advantage of that would be sacrilege.

"Professor... Are you alright?" Harry asked with concern.

Snape struggled to even his breathing. He rarely had dreams, and when he did they tended to be made up more of images and feelings than actual events. But this dream had been so real. He had felt the warmth of the fire and the softness of Harry's lips. He'd felt that firm young body under his and...

"_Incendio_," Snape heard, then watched as Harry's face was illuminated by the fire. "Oh."

Oh, indeed. Snape could only imagine how he looked right now.

"Have a nightmare then?"

Nightmare? The word simply didn't cover the horror he was currently attempting to push away from his consciousness. He felt a cold sweat covering his face and he was only barely getting a hold of his breathing. His hands had not shaken in this way for weeks.

Harry was looking at him in open concern and confusion, as though he had no idea how to handle seeing his once dreaded professor after the terror of a nightmare.

Harry did seem determined though, and he sat on Snape's bed and brought his body close to the man, obviously trying to offer comfort with his proximity.

The young man had no idea that his presence actually did the opposite.

Retreating, Snape quickly slid past Harry and put his feet on the floor and into his slippers.

"I'm fine, Potter. Please don't strain that mind of yours on my account; I have no desire to hear the screech of brain cells dying so early in the morning."

Snape sighed as Harry laughed. He vaguely recalled that only a month ago a comment such as the one he just uttered would have brought a glare and a snide remark from the young man sitting next to him.

And now it made him laugh. The thought both warmed his heart and brought a feeling of dread to it.

Groaning, Snape stood up and grabbed the dressing gown from the foot of his bed, putting it on and walking towards the sitting room.

Harry followed him. "Having a good day, then?"

Snape grunted something akin to an affirmative response. He'd been recovering with Harry in the dungeons for almost a month, and the young man had taken to determining his 'good days' and 'bad days.' On a good day Snape would get up in the morning, take his meals in the sitting room with Harry, and spend a good portion of the day brewing in his labs. They'd taken to discussing Occlumency and defense theory since Poppy still hadn't cleared him to actually practice either. Snape really didn't think there was a risk of being thrown around the room while teaching Harry Occlumency but Poppy insisted on waiting until he was stronger and Harry had outright refused to do anything that could set back the Potions Master's recovery.

On 'bad days' Snape still had a bit of difficulty getting around, but thankfully he no longer needed to lean on Harry to walk. How he had hated to admit just how much he had indulged in feeling the smaller body wrap into his own. Snape also needed to sit for longer periods while in his lab, during which times he had to monitor Harry as he prepared the trickier ingredients while Snape used his wand on the more volatile potions.

Thankfully, his bad days were occurring less often, and Snape could feel his strength returning. He would be healed fully by September first, he was sure, and Harry would be leaving him then.

Approaching the chair in the sitting room and watching Harry take his seat on the sofa close by, Snape came to a decision.

Harry had been in his presence nearly constantly for almost a month. Aside from his daily teas with the werewolf, Harry had been with him for the entirety of every day. Snape reveled in the fact that Harry seemed happy to be with him. He felt at times it was as though he had discovered some wonderful treasure and he had covetously hidden it away so no one else could find it, enjoy it, partake in its splendor.

Snape normally had no issue with his own selfishness. He'd been granted few things in this life and nothing could compare with Harry's beauty. But looking at the young man sitting across from him now, he knew it was not right to keep him locked up in the dungeons, even if Harry seemed content here. No, he'd hidden Harry from the rest of the world long enough.

"I believe we will take our breakfast in the Great Hall this morning, Potter."

Snape watched as Harry's face fell and he looked down to his hands; lying in his lap while he playing with his fingers. Snape had long since begun to equate the action with the young man's nervousness and apprehension. But why would Harry feel apprehensive about leaving the dungeons to take breakfast in the place where he'd taken his meals for the past six years?

Surely Harry didn't enjoy his presence so much?

"Oh," was all he said, his head still down. Peaking through the fringe of his hair, he asked, "Why though? I mean... I kind of like eating in here... Don't you?"

Snape had to work to keep his pleasure and surprise from showing on his face. He knew by now that Harry enjoyed his company, but spending time with him and him alone couldn't be good for either of them.

"Yes, Potter, I do, but I believe it is time for us to rejoin the world that is beyond the these rooms. I fear you've forgotten that the outside world even exists. The headmaster must assume that I've chopped you into potions ingredients by now. You really should show that bird's nest of yours in the Great Hall, if only to soothe the old man's fears."

Harry looked up and grinned, though the gesture did not reach his eyes. "Very funny. You know I had tea with the headmaster twice last week. He knows perfectly well that I'm alive and well, thank you."

Snape smirked as Harry continued.

"Really, though, do we have to? I mean, you know what breakfast will be like. It'll be a lot of, 'Oh, how's your progress coming, Severus?' and 'Harry, my boy, so happy to see the two of you getting along finally.' I mean really, do you actually want to put up with that for as long as it takes us to eat our eggs?" Harry leaned back in to the sofa as his grin diminished.

Snape stifled a snort at Harry's rather accurate description of what awaited them in the Great Hall, but would not be deterred. The past month had elapsed in such a distracted blur that for the first time in a very long time the Potions Master had found himself truly enjoying another's presence. And in all fairness to Lily, the depth of emotion he felt for Harry truly did transcend any kind of friendship he'd had in the past. Regardless of the inherent danger in allowing himself to revel so much in the young man's presence, Snape knew that it would be even more dangerous for him to allow Harry to forget that the outside world still existed.

The Dark Lord still lived and was surely plotting something; and after their most recent encounter it was almost certain that he would not trust Snape with this or any other information. His Death Eaters still did his bidding, and the most immediate threat...

Draco still walked free and in broad day light with his unapologetic selfishness and his warped affection toward him. As if any Malfoy could ever truly love anyone... The idea was as absurd as the thoughts of Harry that were currently traipsing through Snape's mind.

Forcing himself away from these dark thoughts, he was reminded that he really did have to get Harry out of the dungeons, if only to break out of this illusion, this fantasy world that they were currently inhabiting. _Perhaps a different approach would yield more positive results_, Snape thought.

"You are aware, are you not, that your friend the werewolf will most likely be there as well? Perhaps breakfast with the headmaster will be tedious but I can't imagine you not wanting to spend time with Lupin. He will be leaving after the summer, after all."

Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah, Remus. I don't want him to go but..."

Snape quashed a sneer and said, "He can't stay, Potter. This is a school, not a base of operations. His presence here this summer is solely for your benefit. He can't stay while school is in session; he's not a professor nor is he a student."

Harry looked up at him, a slight glare in his eyes. It left after a moment and Harry gave a small sigh.

Oh.

Yes, though they'd had discussions on many topics, they'd never addressed that one in particular. In truth, he hadn't thought of how his airing out Lupin's dirty laundry would affect Harry; it had happened years ago and of course hadn't thought he would ever find himself in this situation. The very idea of him being... enamored with the Boy Who Lived would have been laughable. Now it was a painful reality.

Though he hated to see the pain in Harry's eyes, he also refused to settle for this silence. "Say it," Snape ordered, softly but with no small amount of bite. No topic had been off-limits to either of them in these last few weeks and he'd be damned if Harry suddenly shied away from something now; it'd be the worst kind of hypocrisy. Harry had slowly but surely wormed the truth out of him at every turn. He wouldn't settle for anything less from the young man now.

"He'd be a professor if you hadn't told everyone about his being a werewolf," Harry said, bluntly and void of any emotion. Snape blinked at the flat tone of his voice but noticed that Harry's eyes betrayed him in their anger.

"Yes, Potter. He might still be your professor had I not told the truth about his creature status. What of it?"

The strength of Harry's glare increased. "You didn't have to do that! I know you hated him but... I mean, he hasn't been able to find a job since then and-"

"Would you have me put the students at this school at risk simply so your friend can keep a job? Would you take on that responsibility yourself, Potter?" Snape met Harry's glare with one of his own.

Harry raised his voice, just short of yelling at Snape. "There was no risk as long as he took his potion-"

"Precisely," Snape interrupted, putting up a hand at a protesting Harry. "As long as he took his potion he posed no risk to the students. But he didn't take his potion, Potter. He allowed the events of that night to become more important than the lives of the students at this school. And that is inexcusable."

Harry frowned and Snape could see the wheels turning in his head. He could almost see the arguments as they were cycling through Harry's mind. _'Well, it was only that one time. He'd just found out that his best friend was innocent, what was he supposed to do, ignore it? He was only trying to help us, help Sirius. Shouldn't everyone get a second chance?'_

Instead of voicing these thoughts, Snape watched as Harry deflated and exhaled a breath audibly.

"Don't tell me that those were the only reasons why you did what you did though, Snape."

Snape gave a soft, dark chuckle and sneered. "Oh, no, Potter. I readily admit that I took a certain amount of joy in informing those in power of Lupin's status. But that doesn't change the facts. Lupin knew that he was a danger to everyone around him but he still allowed himself to forget this and put you and everyone else at this school in danger."

Harry still looked upset but no longer as angry. Slowly, he ran a hand through his black hair and asked softly, "You don't still hate him though, do you? I mean... I know you did then. But... truly?"

Snape was really very tired of being asked this question, but the look on Harry's face drove him to answer. He didn't want the young man thinking that he still hated someone he was close with. "My hatred of him has somewhat dulled over the years, it seems."

Harry gave a small smile at that.

Snape would rather a half-hearted smile grace that face than a sneer, he thought, looking away quickly and rising to his feet.

"Now, if you're finished mulling over memories past, perhaps we can grace the headmaster and Lupin with our presence."

Harry looked towards the door in open dismay but nodded. Though he knew it was unlikely, Snape could have sworn he felt Harry's hand ghost against his own as they stepped over the threshold and out onto the hallway.

* * *

"I told you, didn't I? But no... We just had to have breakfast in the Great Hall," Harry said as the two of them slowly made their descent into the dungeons. "Can't we just take our meals in your rooms from now on? Please?"

Snape knew there was no way Harry could possibly know he would bend over backwards to do anything he asked, but some days he could have sworn the young man had an inkling. There was no way Snape could ignore Harry, try as he might. Snape bent his knees slowly as he walked the narrow stone steps that led down to the dungeons, very aware that Harry had slowed his own pace and was walking almost in front of him, protectively. He cursed his body for at least the twelfth time that week and said, "We'll do nothing of the sort. I am perfectly capable of making the short walk up these stairs and into the Hall three times a day. There is no other reason why we should avoid it."

"No other reason? You mean to tell me you're looking forward to Dumbledore asking you how you're feeling three times in five minutes and Madame Pomfrey piling bacon onto both our plates and Remus trying and failing miserably to hide his laughter behind his tea? 'Cause I'm not, really. Honestly Snape, I see Remus every day for tea and the headmaster calls me up to his office whenever he really needs to talk to me. It's not like you've locked me up in the dungeons or something."

He had a point, Snape thought, but again had the mental image of himself picking up Harry, throwing him over his shoulder and hiding him away in the dungeons forever.

Snape sighed.

"We'll take our breakfast and dinner in the Great Hall with the others. Lunch can be in our rooms, seeing as how we'll most likely be working through it either brewing potions or in our discussions on Occlumency and defense."

There. That was giving Harry what he wanted but would still allow them to make their presence known to the other inhabitants of the castle. It had the added advantage of getting Harry and himself among others for a short while which could only benefit Snape's waning self-control.

Snape almost bumped into Harry as the young man stopped on the stairs and visibly straightened. Snape stopped and looked over Harry, trying to see if there was something impeding their way. When he could find nothing, he began to worry about what had caused such a sudden reaction in the young man.

"Potter?"

Harry took another step down and turned his body to face Snape's. His eyes were wide but his face was blank; he was trying and failing to hide his emotions but Snape could easily see he was upset.

"Our rooms?"

Oh.

_Oh._

Snape blanched as he recalled what he had unwittingly let slip and had to fight the desire to close his eyes and shake his head at his own foolishness. His control where Harry was concerned was diminishing as days went by. For a moment he thought to deny what he had said but instead he forced an eye-roll and walked around Harry, trying to make light of the situation.

"It's isn't as if you haven't made yourself perfectly comfortable in my home, Potter. You seem to forcibly invade any area you choose and slowly take it over- like some sort of virus. It's no surprise you have done the same to my quarters." Snape walked by slowly, subconsciously holding his breath until he heard Harry resume walking behind him.

"Yeah," was all Harry said in response.

Snape couldn't explain why he had said what he had. He only knew that Harry was getting much too close now. Whatever he felt for the young man was too all-consuming. He'd hardly ever dreamed and yet Harry seemed to take over both his waking and sleeping thoughts. The young man was penetrating every part of his life, every fibre of his being. And just as Snape had feared, he had no power to stop it.

They walked in silence until they reached the door that led to his private lab. Snape opened the door and walked over to sit behind his desk while Harry leaned against the table closest to it, awaiting their agenda for the day.

These movements were practiced and familiar to both of them, having quickly settled into a routine that changed little from day to day. Since they could not yet practice defense or Occlumency, they settled for potion-making and discussing either topic when there were lulls in the brewing process. It was comfortable and familiar in ways that Snape had never known. He'd never had the opportunity to acquire a lab assistant or apprentice and doubted he would have enjoyed the experience in the least.

Though Harry was by no means excellent at potions his skill had improved, and the young man's presence brought a light to his labs that had been absent before. Snape also found that he actually enjoyed discussing defense with Harry. The young man had always done well with the discipline, and Snape found that he had an excellent grasp of the subject matter and asked thought provoking questions.

Occlumency was not as easy to discuss, but Snape had pressed on all the same. The more Harry could absorb now, when there were no actual casting involved, the easier it would be for him to pick up the art once Snape was better able to cast spells.

That did not mean he was looking forward to it, however. Snape knew that Harry was not adept at mind magic, and though he had come up with several different teaching strategies he doubted Harry would become a stellar student overnight- or without some revisiting of their former adversarial relationship. Knowing this, Snape had already decided to enjoy the peaceful routine potion-brewing allowed while it lasted.

"We're going to continue with cooling potions today, Potter."

Harry sighed and then nodded, and Snape quirked an eyebrow in question.

Harry looked slightly embarrassed at having been caught acting like a bored child. "Oh, nothing, just... We've been doing those for days now. Any chance of doing something different?" Harry rubbed at some nonexistent dirt with the toe of his shoe and fidgeted a bit. Moments like these betrayed the young man's obvious youth though otherwise he conducted himself with a maturity greater than his years.

The question Harry had asked was interesting though. He had assumed from Harry's attitude that he had been enjoying their brewing; that he was growing bored already and desired a greater challenge was promising.

Snape scoffed and looked down at the list of potions he needed to brew for the Order. He'd been slowly restocking his personal store of healing and cooling potions, having used the strongest during his convalescence. They'd started with the less complicated ones but he supposed it would do no harm to skip ahead a bit.

"Very well, Potter. After that debacle in the Great Hall this morning I find myself nearly overcome with the desire to see you handling a more volatile potion." Snape could tell that his ominous words had not had the desired effect when Harry smothered a grin and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "In fact, the very idea of seeing you doused in billywig corpses threatens to bring a smile to my face."

Harry laughed, then stopped at Snape's straight face. Snape raised an eyebrow and waited.

Harry's face paled a bit and the smile left his mouth. "Oh. Er... Billywig corpses then? Don't we usually just use the stingers?"

Snape nodded at Harry's recollection. "Yes, we normally do but the stronger healing potions require the live insect in its entirety. I have the stingers that I require here but you will need to go to Hagrid's hut to retrieve a few live ones that will be necessary for the potion. I'm not entirely sure where he keeps them but I know he has a colony somewhere for this purpose."

Harry blanched at Snape's words. Oh, yes, Snape thought; he had yet to use live ingredients in his potions. The young man in front of him looked suddenly less enthusiastic. He could see the moment in which Harry considered asking if they could just go back to the same potions they'd been brewing day after day before Harry nodded and seemed to accept his fate.

It was a practiced move, Snape thought.

"Alright then. Hagrid's not here so where by his hut would I find billywigs?" Harry asked, trying very hard to appear as though he tossed live insects into a cauldron on a daily basis and wasn't at all disturbed by the thought.

"That I would not know, Potter. I know only that I'm going to start on the base of this potion and you need to be back here with five live billywigs within half an hour." Snape handed Harry a little paper box from one of the drawers in his desk and turned his back on the younger man. With that Snape walked around the tables and started summoning cauldrons, all too aware of Harry's stare on his back.

"The clock is ticking, Potter."

With that Harry laughed and walked out of the lab.

* * *

Harry arrived twenty five minutes later in a rush. He slammed the door behind him and walked up to Snape, his face flushed and very much out of breath. He pulled out the little box, which Snape opened to inspect the specimens. He looked quickly, not wanting to allow the flying insects to escape, but even this cursory examination revealed one that seemed to be slightly crushed.

"What is this, Potter?"

Harry shifted on his feet and said with a surprising lack of confidence, "Um, that, Professor, would be five live billywigs."

"Potter, I believe I know the difference between dead and alive. It comes in handy in my line of work, I assure you, and this billywig," Snape picked up the slightly mangled corpse of the little blue insect and said, "is most certainly dead."

Snape watched as Harry's face paled and he shifted from one foot to the next. Then suddenly a small, almost undetectable grin graced Harry's features. It appeared more in his eyes than on his mouth but as Snape had been watching both, he'd caught it.

He was unprepared when Harry said, "No, no he's, ah.... he's resting."

Snape cocked an eyebrow at words that seemed so familiar to him and looked down at the billywig in his hands. He prodded it a bit with his wand and mentally declared it to be most certainly dead when he suddenly recalled where he'd heard Harry's words before.

_Oh, surely not._

"Resting, is he?" Snape asked.

"Yeah, he's resting. Remarkable insect, the billywig. Wonderful stingers!" Harry said, almost joyfully but with a look of great hesitation on his face.

Snape stifled a laugh. He could hardly believe the conversation he was now engaged in but trudged along all the same, eager to see how far this would go.

"The stingers don't enter into it. It's stone-dead, Potter!"

Harry's eyes lit up at Snape's response. "No, no, he's resting!"

"All right then, if he's resting, I'll wake him up." With that Snape cupped his hand around the dead billywig and called into his hand, "Hello, Mr. Billywig! I've some lovely blades of grass for you if you wake up, Mr. Billywig."

Harry stretched out his hand and flicked the dead billywig in Snape's palm with his finger. "There, he moved!"

"No, he didn't. That was you pushing him!" Snape said, with feigned indignation.

"I never!" Harry said, his face red with the effort of withholding his laughter.

"Yes, you did, I just saw you!"

"No, I never..."

"Hello, Billywig! Wake up, Mr. Billywig!" Snape cried through his fingers as he began to shake poor creatures in his cupped hand.

"Now that is what I call a dead billywig," Snape said with an amused smirk.

"No, he's stunned... You... you stunned him," Harry was now openly laughing, his arms gripped around his stomach, trying to keep himself standing. His breath was coming out in pants and Snape could barely make out what he was saying.

"Look, Potter. the only reason this billywig isn't falling to the floor is because I'm holding him."

"Well, of course you're holding him, Snape. If you weren't, he'd just..." Harry tried to make a motion with his hands to indicate a sharp flying movement but failed when he started laughing again.

"Look, Potter, this billywig wouldn't take off if you put four thousand volts through it. It's woefully demised!"

"No, Snape...." Harry was gasping for air now. "It's pining."

Snape lifted an eyebrow and went in for the kill. "It's not pining, it's passed on. This billywig is no more. It has ceased to be! It's expired and gone to meet its maker. This is a late billywig. It's a stiff. Bereft of life, it rests in peace. If I hadn't taken it into my hand he would be pushing up the daises! Its metabolical processes are of interest only to historians! It's hopped the twig. It's shuffled off this mortal coil. It's run down the curtain and joined the choir invisible! This... is an ex-billywig!"

Harry was red in the face and had long ago been rendered incapable of forming a word let alone a coherent sentence through his laughter. Seeing that it was relatively unlikely that Harry would notice his own laughter, Snape smiled and let loose the low chuckle he'd been holding in for the past few minutes.

Harry immediately looked up and stopped laughing so hysterically. He hiccupped a bit and laughed sporadically as he said, "You should laugh more often, Snape. It suits you." There was still amusement in Harry's eyes, but his laughter had stopped. Harry's face suddenly took on a quality that was difficult for Snape to label, but if pressed he'd call it awed. Awed at what exactly, he had no idea.

"I like your laugh," Harry said and with that he leaned over the table that separated them and stretched out his hand toward Snape's upturned lips.

Snape immediately ceased his chuckling as his heart beat went through the roof. He had to intently restrain himself from opening his mouth and feeling Harry's thumb with the tip of his tongue. The threat of the caress of that calloused digit on his lips was unexpected, and neither was it completely welcome. Snape mentally sighed, partly in relief and partly with another emotion he sought to deny, when a slight frown creased Harry's mouth as he pulled his hand away.

Little touches like the ones Harry had been prone to give him lately were something he'd never experienced in his life. He'd had his share of partners but never a lover who had touched him like that. If pressed, Snape would be forced to say no one had ever touched him the way Harry did.

Had the young man any idea of what he was doing?

Harry frowned and glanced at his hand before putting it down by his side again, his laughter now having completely died down. The young man looked confused by his own actions but not disturbed. Whatever he was thinking it was clear that Harry had no idea of the torment he was putting Snape through.

It was all Snape could do not to run his tongue over the places Harry's finger had nearly grazed, the ghost of that phantom touch still burning him.

He walked over to the cauldron that held the base of the healing potion they would have brewed had Harry brought the proper ingredients. He deliberately didn't look at the young man, giving them both a moment to clear their heads. "Well, this is useless," Snape said and cast _evanesco_, to clear the cauldrons of the liquid they had previously contained.

Harry cleared his throat and said, "Er, I am sorry about the billywigs. I dropped the box on my way back into the castle and by then it had already been twenty minutes. There was no way I could have gone back and still made it in time." Harry ran a hand through his hair and said sheepishly, "I actually kind of hoped that the crushed one would hang on just long enough for him to be dropped in the cauldron. Stupid, that."

"Yes, I imagine it's not in the norm for you to wish for small insects to hold onto life simply so you may drop them into a boiling cauldron later." Snape gathered the rest of the ingredients and put them away.

Harry followed him over the storeroom. He put a hand on Snape's back and asked, "And by the way, how the hell do you have that entire Monty Python Pet Shop sketch memorized?"

Snape scoffed and turned around to address Harry, suddenly realizing how very close they were standing to each other. "You do realize that my father was a muggle, do you not, Potter?" Harry nodded but still seemed a bit confused. "I believe I've seen every episode of that program at least half a dozen times. The possibility does not exist that one can live in muggle England and not learn Monty Python by heart. The scripts are passed into the fetus subconsciously along with everything else it needs to thrive. You, obviously, are another example of this."

Harry laughed and ran a hand down Snape's back as they moved to exit the storeroom. Snape could swear he could feel where Harry had touched him far after the hand had been removed.

* * *

By the end of July, two weeks after the billywig incident, Snape felt he was finally ready to begin instructing Harry in the practical aspect of defense and Occlumency, instead of just the theory they'd been discussing for some time now. As much as discussing theory had helped, Snape knew that Harry had to begin training, especially in Occlumency. Of course, as his luck usually ran on the day that he had finally decided to put a lesson plan into action his body decided to rebel against him once more.

"Do you think you'll feel up for a walk today?" Harry asked, turning to Snape on the couch and nudging his knee with his own. If Harry continually took to sitting right next to him on the sofa, instead of on the opposite side as people were normally apt to do, Snape wasn't about to mention it. Though he knew it ill-advised, he continued to adore Harry's little grazes more than he wanted to admit.

"Do I appear to be dying, Potter? Because that is the only reason why I would cease my daily excursions. You do not have to join me if you do not wish to. I'm sure that wolf friend of yours would enjoy seeing you for longer than an hour or two a day."

Harry smiled as Snape had come to expect him to whenever he made a disparaging remark. "Maybe, but remember at breakfast Remus said he had Order business and that he might be late. Besides, I like spending time with him, but... No, I like taking those walks with you." Harry smiled and met Snape's gaze dead-on, black eyes meeting green. There was no shyness, no hesitation in Harry's countenance. Why would there be, Snape asked himself. It wasn't as if Harry's thoughts for him were plagued by perversions.

"Well, your tastes always did leave something to be desired, Potter. If you're willing-"

But Snape was unable to finish his sentence as suddenly a bright silvery object came bursting through his quarters and ran up to Harry. Both men had their wands out instantly, but lowered them at the same time as they realized what the silvery object was.

"I'll have to change my wards to not allow wolves or wolf-like entities, I suppose, if they are going to come traipsing through my dungeons in this manner," Snape said in a droll tone.

The wolf patronus opened its mouth and spoke. "Harry, would you like to meet me for tea an hour later than usual?"

Harry watched as the silvery wolf faded away. Turning to Snape, he said, "Why didn't he just fire-call?"

Snape rolled his eyes and deadpanned, "He obviously knows you well enough to realize your attentions can only be held by shiny objects, Potter."

Harry laughed and said, "Very funny. No, really. I've seen him use his patronus a few times in the last month but it was always in an emergency." Harry looked down, his eyes unfocussed as his mind wandered over what Snape was sure were not warm memories.

In an effort to save Harry from himself once again, he quickly interrupted whatever train of thought was currently going through the Gryffindor's head. "No doubt he wants to see if you can respond. Casting the patronus charm is challenge for most wizards but once that skill has been acquired learning how to send messages is no difficult task."

Snape stood up and motioned for Harry to do the same. This might not have been what he had intended to teach Harry, but it was a lesson and for that, Snape was glad. These weeks spent in the dungeons had been far too relaxing, far too comfortable for both himself and Harry. While he silently rejoiced at witnessing Harry thrive in his presence, he also realized that the young man was far too relaxed and still far too removed from what was going on outside of the castle's wards. They needed to stop acting as if there was nothing to hide from and begin preparing for what was coming. As much as he hated to destroy that comfortable air that surrounded Harry these days, he would have to do so if only to save the young man from himself.

Both had their wands in hand when Snape said, "You know, of course, that in order to create a corporeal patronus, one must think of a very happy memory; allow it to fill you up and penetrate your senses."

Harry nodded.

Snape continued. "Well, having your patronus carry a message requires all of that to be done almost in your subconscious mind. You have to allow the thought to fill you from the inside out so completely that you no longer concentrate so much on the memory, but more the feeling of the memory. That in turn allows you to fabricate a message in your mind, which you then speak and which will in turn be spoken through the patronus."

Snape stood back a bit from the sofa and chairs. "Observe," he said quietly.

It was no great difficulty casting the patronus charm. When Snape had initially learned it, he thought it would be tremendously hard to come up with a happy memory strong enough to perform it. And it had been very difficult, at first. How could it not be when his only happy memories were so sullied? However, over the years he had perfected his ability to concentrate only on the good of the memory and not the bittersweet taint that surrounded it.

He always picked the same memory. It was of Lily and himself at a park in their youth, swinging on a swing set near their homes. He went back to that thought now but found it difficult to concentrate on the familiar memory of Lily's red hair swaying in the wind, of her bubbling laughter as she flew through the air. Instead all he could see was Harry looking at him expectantly. Suddenly, the memory grew dim and no longer filled the forefront of his mind. Harry was looking at him with something akin to concern in his eyes.

Grumbling at himself for taking so long with Harry standing right in front of him, he closed his eyes to avoid the young man's expectant stare as well as the memories this particular person brought to his consciousness.

Snape closed his eyes, but again all he could see was Harry. Harry's green eyes, Harry's slim form but broad shoulders. Harry's hands touching his, Harry's knee nudging his with their accursed familiarity...

Realizing this was taking far too long, Snape consciously cleared his mind as though he were in the presence of the Dark Lord himself. Concentrating as hard as he could on the memory of Lily, Snape formulated a sentence in his head, opened his eyes and said, '_Expecto Patronum._'

The white mist that came out of his wand was immediately sneered at as if it had perpetuated some great wrong upon him.

He couldn't believe it. He hadn't had this problem since his youth. And how incredibly embarrassing that this would happen right in front of Harry!

Oh, yes, Harry, Snape thought turning his glare from the offensive white mist to the young man standing in front of him...

Who was looking at him with a great deal of sympathy. Oh, gods. He could have handled Harry mocking him far better than he could stomach Harry acting like he was some incompetent. Or worse, some thrice damned emotional cripple incapable of finding one good memory. And of course, it did not help that the young man in front of him had been capable of casting this particular charm at the age of thirteen.

Harry looked down to the floor and ran a hand through his hair. In a very quiet voice, he said, "I bet it's really hard for you to think up a good memory. I mean, it's understandable that-" Harry was cut off by Snape, who nearly roared in his anger.

"If you know what's good for you, you'll shut your mouth this instant, Potter!" Snape's fury at this was quick, and he watched as Harry looked up and frowned as he took a step back from the all too familiar Professor Snape.

Seeing that he had upset the young man, Snape immediately pulled his anger back. It wasn't Harry's fault that his very presence was so distracting to the Potions Master. No, the fault lay solely on him and his wretched desires. Snape hated the look Harry was giving him now, like he was hurt and unsure of who exactly was standing in front of him. Was he the man Harry had been living with for over a month or the misanthrope of the dungeons?

Snape sighed and took a step back as well, trying to give Harry some space. In a much softer voice he said, "I am perfectly capable of casting that charm, Potter." Snape quickly went over a myriad of excuses in his head that were better than 'your beauty and quiet strength are simply an insurmountable distraction that I am faced with upon every breath I take.' But he had no desire to be maudlin with the young man, nor did he wish to lie to him outright. Remembering the person in front of him, he aimed for levity. With a raised eyebrow and a sarcastic tone he continued, "Your presence here is merely so distracting that I find it impossible to concentrate on a good memory. If I allowed myself to become distracted for even a second I'm certain you'd choose that moment to go traipsing off on some adventure involving trolls and giants. Truly, Potter, you are a menace."

Harry obviously realized that Snape was trying to make light of an embarrassing situation. Perhaps the boy had more than half a brain after all. His frown disappeared as he took in the Potions Master's words and he smiled. "Trolls and giants?"

Snape face was straight as he deadpanned, "Indeed."

The Potions Master saw the instant that the young man decided to forgive Snape's transgression and play along. Harry seemed to try to quash his smile but was unsuccessful. "Well, if you're not capable of casting a Patronus in my presence I'll just have to protect you myself, won't I?"

Snape rolled his eyes and scoffed as he started to walk towards the door that led out of his rooms. "Yes, Potter, I'm so very fortunate to have an in-house savior."

Harry followed him out of the hall, laughing and light on his feet as he continued his playful tirade. "Hey, it's a good thing I'm here, Snape. You never know when you're going to need a hero."

* * *

"Thank you for coming back so quickly, Remus." Dumbledore stood up from his desk as Remus walked into the room. "Were you able to speak with the man?"

Remus sat down in his usual chair, not at all surprised at the lack of the usual offering of tea and biscuits. This was hardly a friendly visit.

He nodded. "I'm glad Kingsley was assigned to that case. He handled the obliviation personally, or rather, he personally failed to administer it." Remus adjusted his back in his seat and looked over Dumbledore's desk, struggling for the right words to describe the state the man had been in before Kingsley had performed a calming charm.

"There's no doubt in my mind that Death Eaters attacked that neighborhood. But what I've been trying to determine for the last few hours is why, Albus." Remus issued a frustrated sigh as he wracked his brain again for an answer that was not forthcoming. "It was a muggle neighborhood. Kingsley said there are no wizards living in the area nor relatives of wizards, as far as they could tell. It just looks like some random attack. And I don't understand why Voldemort wouldn't have been more careful. Even he would suffer if the muggles found out about us."

Dumbledore's eyes grew darker as he leaned back in his chair, his hand reaching out along his desk, fingers grazing the chessboard with its black and white pieces that Remus had grown to despise. Remus resigned himself to waiting for the headmaster to take in the information he'd just given him. His eyes wandered around the room a bit; his gaze coming to rest on Fawkes, lightly trilling in his cage, and the shelves of odd looking instruments and books.

He redirected his gaze to the headmaster's desk and the documents that were scattered in chaos across it, piled on top of large tomes and parchment. Remus let his mind wander as his eyes landed on a familiar looking book that lay on Dumbledore's desk.

_Darkest Bonds. _ The reason Harry was currently calling the dungeons home.

Remus was contemplating how odd that fact was once again when Dumbledore's voice commanded his attention.

"Why doesn't factor into it, Remus. These are not the actions of a general, they're the meandering whims of a madman who sends his soldiers to slaughter without any thought to the consequences." Dumbledore was looking past Remus as he continued, "You cannot look at a mass-murderer and try to fathom his reasons." The headmaster seemed to realize he was talking to himself and looked up at Remus, a smile that did not reach his eyes again gracing his aging features.

"Thank you for bringing me this information, Remus. We still have no idea what Voldemort is planning but he reveals something in every attack; even if it's nothing but his own madness." The headmaster sat up straight in his chair and called for tea, pouring himself and the other man a cup.

"You know, I'm so very glad that you decided to stay at Hogwarts this summer. I think it's benefited Harry greatly. His attitude has improved significantly this summer." Dumbledore added some milk to his cup and leaned back in his chair, a smile on his face.

The subject change should have been abrupt and off-putting to another man but after dealing with the eccentric wizard for several years, he was used to the mental jumps the man made.

Remus nodded and smiled as he always did while taking tea with the headmaster. Of course, all of Albus' teas were really excuses for something else entirely, and this session had been no different. The last time Remus had been invited to tea he'd spent a half hour dancing around the subject of Harry. How Harry was, how he was coping living in the dungeons. Did Harry seem to be faring better than before he had gone to live in Severus' quarters?

And in all honesty, Remus had answered yes. Yes, Harry seemed to be in very good spirits. Yes, Harry seemed to be getting along very well with Severus if his daily teas with Remus were any indication. More often than not the young man was still smiling as he walked into his rooms.

Remus had always expected that Severus would be a good man to get to know, if only he would let anyone do so. He was very pleased though a bit confused that Harry had managed to worm his way into the man's life. He knew from experience how much Severus enjoyed his privacy.

Truth be told, everyone knew that Severus was now more than capable of getting around on his own. He hardly needed assistance even in his lab these days, if what Harry said in their daily visits was true. And yet no one had asked if Harry wanted his own rooms now, and no one had asked Severus if he wanted his life back. Both men seemed to be very content in their current situation.

And that confused Remus greatly.

Of course, he could understand Harry's desire for a friend. He knew that Ron's death had left Harry with a gaping hole in his heart that even he couldn't fill. But he had honestly expected Harry to be corresponding with Hermione rather than talking with Severus. And yet that was not what had occurred. More confusing was that they seemed to be together all the time. After interrupting them in the lab nearly month ago, Remus had learned that the two of them had a certain chemistry to their relationship that could neither be explained nor understood.

Needless to say, Remus had not gone barging in on their conversations again. He had no desire to judge Harry's choice of friends, and had oddly enough been left feeling like a third wheel, which was a feeling he had no desire to revisit. He was comfortable enough with either his old schoolmate or Harry on their own, but being with the two of them together that day had been odd in the extreme. He had no problem fire-calling Harry or sending a message to him asking for time to nurture their own friendship. He was very glad to be able to get to know Harry again, and was glad to see him doing so well, especially after such a tragedy.

The fact that Severus Snape had inspired this in Harry was not lost on him. Nor was the oddness of that fact.

Conscious of the fact that his mind was wandering he addressed the headmaster. "Yes, and thank you for allowing me to stay here, Albus. I'm very glad that I've been able to spend some time with Harry this summer, especially after such an awful year."

The headmaster nodded and got to his feet to see Remus out. "Yes, I'm only sorry that we were not able to spare him the hardship that last year has brought him. But he has you here now, and it seems he and Severus are getting along splendidly. I have no doubt that Harry will be able to handle whatever challenges the coming year brings well enough."

Remus smiled and walked out of the office. He was glad that the meeting with Albus hadn't run too long otherwise he'd have been even later for his meeting with Harry. He had hoped that the young man would have responded with a patronus of his own, but he supposed no one had gotten around to teaching him yet.

He began to walk down to the hallway that led to his rooms when suddenly he heard voices. Two voices to be exact, though he could hear one quite better than the other. Though he knew automatically who the voices must have belonged to, he still didn't believe it could be Severus and Harry. He hadn't spent much time with both of them, but he still was surprised to hear the two voices...

Were they flirting?

Remus instinctively backed up into the wall, found a suit of armor to hide himself behind, and listened as the voices grew closer.

Remus watched as Harry came into view. He was walking backwards and he had his wand out, brandishing it like it was some kind of sword. The hallway was large and empty so all Remus could hear was an echo as Harry spoke, rather than the actual words the young man was saying. Harry spun around from his backwards position and walked around his old school mate, his feet crossing the other in what appeared to be a practiced move, almost dancing around Severus. His face was brightly lit with a warm smile as he waved his wand in the air against some unseen adversary.

Remus quirked an eyebrow at Harry's overly friendly behavior toward the Potions Master but aside from his being a bit too familiar with the other man, he could find nothing unusual in his actions.

No, it was Severus' actions that a man less familiar with him would instantly brush off that made Remus rethink everything he had ever thought he knew about the man.

Severus was hardly saying a word to the still playful Harry, and Remus supposed he had used up his sarcastic comments when the two had been out of sight. But it wasn't so much the look on Severus' face that shocked him. He could see a slight smile grace the thin lips, but nothing too revealing. No, what made him marvel wasn't Severus' lack of snark or his almost pleased countenance.

It was his eyes. He'd never seen Severus look at another human being the way he was looking at Harry. Having known the Potions Master off and on for over twenty years, Remus had learned that though Severus was not a bad man, neither was he a warm one. Remus suspected Severus hadn't had a real friend since before Lily's death. Remus was well-used to the cold look that had inhabited Severus' eyes since their fifth year at Hogwarts, and the cruel nature that had gone along with it. But even thinking back to those early years, when Severus had been very close to Lily, he couldn't remember him ever looking at anyone this way before.

Severus had the look of a man who was completely in love. He was looking at Harry as though he was his entire world, as though the sun rose and set just for him.

No. Impossible.

Stunned, he watched as Severus smiled broadly the moment Harry was out of eyeshot and this time the look was immistakeable. Though he had never seen Severus look that way, he knew what a man in love looked like. The warmth in those dark eyes, the smile that was too genuine for even a spy to fake, the ease with which he walked by Harry's side.

Remus watched as Harry ceased circling the Potions Master and took his place on the man's right. They walked closely together, side by side, and as Remus watched they walked away, Harry's arm grazing Severus'.

* * *

Snape was relieved to be back in his sitting room and demonstrated such by sitting down on the sofa as soon as he was able.

It came as no surprise when Harry sat next to him.

"I can relax now, right? This is a Dementor-free zone?" Harry said with look of mock seriousness on his face.

Snape lifted an eyebrow and suppressed a smile. He really had allowed Harry far too many disparaging comments on his person on their daily walk around the castle, but the young man had seemed too happy to be poking fun with his once most hated professor that he couldn't find the heart to shut him up.

At the time.

"I believe I've allowed you enough enjoyment at my expense for an entire year, Potter. You've still a bit of time before you're expected at Lupin's and I want you to learn how to cast a messenger patronus properly. On your feet."

Harry smirked but did as he was told. The young man took his wand out and awaited instruction, all traces of humor gone from his face. _At least he knows when the time for distraction is over_, Snape thought to himself.

"Now, as I said before. Think about your happiest memory, allow it to fill you up, then think the words you'd like Lupin to hear and say them aloud after you cast the spell."

"How will we know if it's worked properly?" Harry asked, planting his feet a bit farther apart from each other.

"Well, Potter, if your patronus goes running around the room looking for dementors that aren't there we'll finally have proof that there really isn't a brain in that head of yours. If, on the other hand, it gallops out the door then we'll know you've succeeded."

"Alright, then," Harry said and took a step back from the sofa. He seemed to concentrate for a moment before casting, "_Expecto Patronum_." The silver stag errupted from his wand lighting up the dungeons. "Tea sounds great, Remus. I'll be there shortly."

But the stag simply walked around the room a bit before fading into nothingness.

Harry frowned.

Snape regretted his harsh words a bit. He'd never known of a person who successfully cast a message on their first try. He tried to be reassuring. "Very good for a first try, Potter, but you need to concentrate more."

"I am concentrating. I don't know what went wrong," Harry said as he ran a hand through his hair.

Snape stood up, still a bit shaky from that long walk. "Don't be sullen. It's rare for someone to succeed on their first try. Now, I want you to concentrate this time but not only on the memory, but also on the words."

Snape took a step back from the sofa as did Harry and raised his wand again.

Again, he thought of Lily but continued to be distracted by Harry's presence. Snape growled to himself and thought that he would not embarrass himself again. He knew now that there was no way he could rid Harry from his mind. The young man selfishly commanded his attention in his every waking moment.

_Not only my waking moments_, thought Snape. And suddenly it came to him. Perhaps it was impossible to get Harry out of his head but he could still find one happy memory.

Snape thought of the memory of his dream from several nights ago. Of that one moment before everything had gone wrong. That one beautiful moment when it had seemed as though Harry was his and he could have everything that the young man had to offer.

He concentrated on how real those lips had felt and how lovely it had been to have that firm body under his. Only that moment, that one second in time when everything had seemed perfect.

"_Expecto Patronum_," Snape cast, and he watched as a silver entity went galloping out of his wand.

Both men stopped at the sight of the misty doe standing in the middle of Snape's sitting room, awaiting her orders.

Snape stood in shock for just a moment before saying, "You can expect Potter's loathsome presence shortly, Lupin."

The doe took off at a gallop, leaving the room and heading to wherever Lupin was at the moment.

Harry frowned, taking in the scene that had just played out before him. Snape watched as Harry paused and took a shaky breath before he asked his question.

"You patronus is a doe?" he asked quietly.

Snape nodded. Yes, apparently it was.

Harry put his head down and did not meet Snape's eyes. "Oh. Um... You know that my dad... He was..." Harry stuttered as he was wont to do when nervous but for once Snape didn't stop him from blabbering. "Is... um... Was my mum's patronus a doe?"

Again, Snape nodded. Realizing Harry was still not looking at him, he added, "Yes, it was."

Harry finally looked up, a look of cautious sadness on his face. "Oh," was all he could say for a moment. The young man looked down again and addressed his shoes. "We never really talk about it but... You really did love her, didn't you?"

Nodding seemed to be the only way he could easily communicate just now. He forced himself to say, "She was my best friend, Potter."

Harry nodded but said nothing to this, the silence stretching between them.

"Um, well I guess we can finish this later, can't we? I think I'll go join Remus for tea." Harry looked up and gave him a sad smile before turning and walking out the door.

Snape sat down on the couch, barely noticing when Harry left the room.

It might not have been the best idea to send that patronus to Lupin, he thought, but really he'd find out soon enough, the wolf being a member of the Order and all.

Snape took his wand in his hands and again cast the patronus charm, watching as the silvery doe came charging out to meet him again. This time he didn't order it away, choosing instead to run a hand through its silvery mist.

Deceptive, clandestine, cunning: these were all words that Snape had used to describe himself over the years, and even more so when he returned to Dumbledore's service as a spy. He'd always prided himself on being true to himself, however; of always knowing his own mind even when the truth of the matter was something lesser men would have hidden from. He really shouldn't have been so surprised therefore to see that his patronus had changed to compliment Harry's.

The doe seemed to be a bit stronger than his raven had ever been. Apparently all his denial had been for naught, for he was now staring proof in the face that he was completely, hopelessly in love with Harry Potter.

* * *

Remus Lupin was startled when a silvery doe charged into his room. It was not the sight of the patronus itself that startled him, he had been expecting either Harry's stag or Severus' raven to come charging in at any moment now. But he knew the form of the patronus of every person presently in this castle and a doe was not one of them.

He was therefore shocked to hear Severus' voice come out of the doe's mouth.

Listening to the message and realizing Harry was probably already on his way, Remus forced his mind to slow down and concentrate on the conversation he was about to have.

If there had been any doubt in his mind about his old school mate's affections for Harry, they were gone now. A patronus didn't change due to some passing fling, nor was it adapted for a close friend.

No, only a great emotional change could alter the appearance of one's patronus. Remus knew that Severus' had always been a raven; he could still recall Sirius mocking him by calling it a crow even now. But it had obviously changed to reflect Harry's own.

He had no idea how he was going to have this conversation with Harry. Really, he thought, he had no right. He was Harry's friend, not his father. Truth be told, he had no desire to fill that role for the young man. If there was any familial feeling between them it was fraternal more than anything else, for which Remus was glad. The time when Harry had needed a father figure had long since passed. His young friend hadn't truly been a child for some time.

Well, he was Harry's friend, that much was certain. Friends looked out for each other; surely that gave him the right to ask the questions he needed to ask.

A few minutes later, a knock came at the door. Remus rose from the straight-backed chair sitting in front of the fire and went to open the door only to find a very solemn-looking Harry standing on the threshold.

"Harry?" Remus greeted him in an inquisitive tone. "Come in. Are you alright?" Remus opened the door wider and stepped back to let his friend in.

Harry sighed. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just... Snape." Harry walked past Remus into his room, head still slightly bowed and face sullen. "You got his patronus?" When Remus nodded, Harry continued, "Did you know about it?"

Remus blanched and sat down in his chair, gesturing for Harry to do the same in the one opposite him. He prepared himself for the answer to the question he knew he had to ask. "Yes, I did. What about that upset you?"

Harry looked up at Remus and said softy, "Well, he had told me that was friends with my mother." Harry paused and looked up at Remus, a look of slight hesitation in his eyes. "But, you knew about that, right? It's not like it was some big secret, was it?"

Remus shook his head. "No, I knew they were friends when we were in school. They were together all the time... Until after our OWLS."

Harry stiffened and put his face in his hands, his elbows meeting his knees. "Yeah," Harry sighed. "That."

Remus was at a loss as to why exactly Harry was upset and was bringing Lily into the conversation. When Harry had mentioned Severus' patronus, he'd thought that the young man would have put two and two together by now. He didn't expect Harry to be angry with Severus but he guessed there might have been some awkwardness there. "Harry, what does your mother have to do with Severus' patronus and why does it have you so upset?"

Harry sat up straight and looked Remus straight in the eye. "I don't know. I mean... I knew that he loved her. He told me that she was his best friend. I know he didn't really have any other friends, unless you count the headmaster... Or you, and, well, no offense Remus, but I'm pretty sure he doesn't."

Remus smiled a bit and conceded the point.

"I've been with him while he recovered all summer long." Harry gazed sadly at Remus, almost looking past him. "I would have known if a friend had visited him or if he'd received a letter but... Nothing. All this time. I mean, I knew it before, but seeing that his patronus is a doe just like hers... It just kind of forced me to really realize it, you know?" Harry sighed again and looked at the fire. "I didn't want to ask him but... I wanted to know. You and Sirius were always talking about how great a guy my dad was and how you were such great friends. I had kind of forgotten that Snape was her friend. That he still misses her even after all this time."

Remus blinked.

Oh, gods.

Had Severus allowed Harry to believe that his patronus was a doe because of his love for Lily?

"Harry..." Remus tried, but in truth he had no idea how to start this conversation. Harry looked up at him, sadness etched onto his face.

Remus ran a hand over his face and sighed. He looked up at Harry again, and now confusion marred the young man's features. He could think of nothing to say but, "What exactly do you feel for Severus?"

Harry's confusion increased for a moment before a look of annoyance played over his features. Harry leaned his head down and sighed, running a hand over his face in frustration.

Harsh green eyes peered up at him through black fringe. "You know, Remus, I didn't think I'd have to defend myself to you, of all people."

"What?" Remus asked aloud, not understanding Harry's outburst.

"Do you really think that after all he's done for me, after all we've shared, that I'd hurt him? That I'd what... Just abandon him or something? Stop being his friend? I mean, do you really think I'd do something like that? Leave him alone, with Malfoy still out there?"

Remus put up a hand to halt the argument Harry was having with himself. "No, no, Harry, you misunderstand me. I didn't mean anything like that. I know you; you would never hurt Severus or anyone you cared for." Remus paused a moment and then said slowly, "And, you do care for Severus, don't you?"

"Of course I care for him. He's my friend. Do you really think that after saving my life and my ... _sanity_ and letting me stay with him all this time-"

"Harry!" Remus shouted this time, unwilling to let this conversation unravel farther. "No, Harry I don't think that at all. Let me rephrase my question, please."

Harry nodded but still seemed to be on his guard.

"Severus is usually a very cold man. Surely you can agree that normally he isn't the warmest individual?" Remus tried to reason with the young man, who seemed inordinately upset on Severus' behalf. When the young man nodded he continued, "He hasn't done anything... odd to you, or made you feel uncomfortable, has he?"

If Harry had been annoyed before he was enraged now. He stood up from his chair and shouted at the man, "Merlin, Remus! You know, everyone thinks that Snape's the hateful one, the one who truly loathes you even after all these years but that's not true is it? You know I asked him a few weeks ago how he truly felt about you and he doesn't hate you. How can you hate him? I mean, yeah, I know that he got you kicked out of Hogwarts and I'd be pretty angry if I were you too, but-"

Remus stood up and put his hands on Harry's shoulders in an attempt to calm the young man. "Harry, please, no. I don't hate Severus and I certainly don't blame him for my... current unemployment. I wasn't angry with him then and I'm not angry with him now. I just wanted..."

But really Remus understood why Harry was reacting this way. He had been trying to skirt the issue instead of asking Harry directly if he had romantic feelings for Severus, but clearly the young man's thoughts weren't in even the vicinity. Severus had been right in the infirmary all those weeks ago; Harry was incapable of lying. There was no way Harry would have been able to keep his feelings for Severus from showing up on his face.

Apparently the thought hadn't even occurred to him.

Relaxing back into his chair, he urged Harry to do the same before calling for a tea service.

"I'm very sorry if I upset you, Harry. I was only curious as to how you and Severus were getting along."

Harry shook his head, still seeming angry. "Yeah, that doesn't make any sense, Remus. I tell you about him everyday."

Remus frowned and nodded into his tea. "Yes, you do."

* * *

Harry left Remus' rooms slightly sooner than he usually did. He had calmed down a bit but was not entirely over his anger at the other man. How could Remus possibly think those things about Snape? Well, yeah, maybe Snape had once almost hit him in the head with a jar of cockroaches but he had missed, hadn't he? What was the likelihood of a man like Snape missing accidentally?

Aside from that, the man had recently saved Harry's life. Again. How could Remus possibly think that Snape would harm him? He really had no idea what to think of his friend's questions.

Maybe Remus was worried because he'd be leaving Harry in a month's time. With all that had happened, and what was likely to happen in the near future, it couldn't be easy for Remus to just leave Hogwarts and leave Harry. He supposed it was only natural for Remus to be a bit protective of him. But still...

Harry shook his head as though the physical act would help clear his thoughts faster. By now his feet were accustomed to walking the steps from Remus' rooms in Gryffindor down to the dungeons. He walked the familiar territory quickly, eager to get back down to the dungeons and to Snape. He knew that his head would clear soon enough if he could only be in the man's presence for a bit.

Harry put his hand on the door to Snape's quarters and it opened for him. He was surprised to find Snape sitting in the same chair he'd been seated on when he had left him earlier, staring into the fire with a very lost look on his face.

"Snape?" Harry said, a question in his tone. That one word, just the man's name, infused with so many questions.

_Are you alright? Did I leave you alone for too long? Did something happen?_

When Snape didn't look up after a moment Harry began to worry. He rushed over to the man's chair, sank to his knees and put his hands on top of the Potions Master's-

Who immediately looked up at Harry and flinched. Snape's hands moved to cover his own automatically before the man pulled them away just as quickly. Confused, Harry followed them in their retreat and pulled them back towards himself.

"What happened to you?"

Snape shook his head and tore his gaze away from Harry's. "Nothing to concern yourself with, Potter."

Harry clasped the long-fingered hands between his own, running his thumbs over Snape's knuckles. He suddenly had an overwhelming desire to kiss them, though he couldn't have said why. The same confused sensation that he'd had in the lab weeks ago when he'd had the greatest desire to touch Snape's mouth came rushing back. He didn't understand why he had these feelings. All he knew was that he hated to see Snape suffer. Harry brought the potion-stained fingers up to his mouth but did not press his lips to them. Instead, he ghosted his lips over them in a shadow of a kiss, restraining himself in his desire to not embarrass himself should Snape push him away.

But the man didn't move. Instead, Snape allowed his left hand to be held close to Harry's mouth and ran his right through Harry's hair, and the young man let out a breath he hadn't known he had been holding.

In all his time with Sirius, Remus, and various older Weasleys, Harry's hair had been ruffled up and played with many times. He had not, however, had someone touch him the way Snape was right now.

One long-fingered hand was slowly running through his hair. Snape's thumb would trace his lightning bolt scar and then softly go through his fringe until his fingers came to the nape of his neck where they would barely make contact with his skin, causing the little hairs to stand on end. Harry shuddered each time but enjoyed the touch. Yes, he was sure no one had ever caressed him like this.

The hand that had been on Harry's mouth moved to cup his face, while Snape's thumb ran softly over his lips. The calloused thumb had never felt softer to Harry as it ran over his mouth.

Slowly, Snape cupped the back of his head while pulling his chin up to look the Potions Master in the eye. Harry looked up at Snape and smiled as he noticed the man's dark eyes shining in the firelight; some emotion contained in them that Harry couldn't quite define. Snape continued to play with his hair, and he gave Harry a very small but undeniable smile.

Harry gave a soft laugh and said, "And Remus was worried about how you've been treating me."

It was like a light had been suddenly put out without any warning. Snape dropped his hand from Harry's face and pulled the other from the back of his head. Harry mourned the loss of that warmth. Recognizing that the moment that had existed between them was now over, he got to his feet and sat on the sofa cushion nearest to the man who was now looking into the fire.

"What did Lupin say?"

Harry frowned. He tried to remember precisely what Remus had asked but couldn't remember the exact wording. He'd been too upset by his question to truly pay attention at that point. "He asked if you'd hurt me or... something like that. I can't remember how he asked it exactly but that was the general idea." Harry sighed and joined Snape in staring at the fire, the warm moment between them over for now, it seemed. "I couldn't believe he'd asked that. I mean, even when you hated me you never hurt me. You were always looking out for me. Why would he think that of you now?"

It seemed impossible, but Snape turned his head away from Harry even further.

"I've no idea."

Harry nodded, though he knew Snape couldn't see him. Snape didn't seem quite as upset as he had when Harry had entered the room but the atmosphere was still a far cry from the tenor of their usual evening chats.

Resolving not to ask the very private man what was bothering him, Harry simply sat there, hoping that his presence comforted Snape half as much as the man's did for him.

* * *

Snape quietly exited his bedroom, passing Harry who was sleeping soundly on his sofa. He quashed the urge to watch the young Gryffindor sleep a while and reminded himself of the task at hand. Harry would be awake any moment now and he wanted to return to his quarters before the young man realized he had gone.

As he entered the Great Hall he observed a small group of owls waiting patiently at the head table next to the seat where Harry took his meals. He had no doubt they carried gifts from Granger and various Weasleys, but he was more concerned with the small brown owl sitting on his usual seat, holding a plainly wrapped package. He put the required payment in the owl's pouch and sent the thing on its way.

Before leaving he addressed the other owls, saying, "Mr. Potter will not be along for some time. If you'll give me your packages I'll make sure he receives them." The owls looked at him curiously for a moment before deciding it was probably best not to argue with the man. Snape gathered up the parcels and moved to make his way back to the dungeons.

No sooner than he had turned around, the doors to the Great Hall opened and Remus Lupin walked through.

Taking his meals in the Great Hall for the past few days had been an exercise in control. It was incredibly obvious to Snape that Lupin had been trying to get him alone, ostensibly in an attempt to talk about the change in his patronus- about Harry. But Snape would have none of it; in fact it was all he could do not to hex the fool. Perhaps he was a monster for desiring a young man so pure but his affairs were surely none of Lupin's business. He had returned any glances Lupin sent his way with a glare of his own; he'd not have the wolf subjecting him to an inquisition in his own home.

Snape passed Lupin with the barest of nods, but was stopped before he could exit the hall by a hand on his shoulder.

Had Snape not had his arms full of packages he'd have forcibly removed the unwanted appendage from his person. As it was he was seriously considering levitating the packages so he could do so now.

"Are those for Harry, Severus?" The question was harmless but the tone conveyed far more than the words the man was saying.

Snape glared at the hand on his shoulder but Lupin did not remove it. "I suggest you unhand me, Lupin, before I remove it myself." Remus lifted the hand from his shoulder but did not move away. Snape scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Yes, they are for Potter. I was simply retrieving my own package and thought to bring these atrociously wrapped parcels down with me." Snape glared at the other man, daring him to speak.

Remus nodded but did not turn away. "You and I need to speak, Severus."

Snape merely lifted an eyebrow in response then turned and walked away.

* * *

Harry woke up on Snape's couch in his sitting room, and sat up quickly upon realizing today was July 31st, his seventeenth birthday. It hardly made a difference, really; having stayed at Hogwarts all summer, his use of magic hadn't been restricted as it usually was. Even though he'd already been living like an adult for several months, the thought that he was now of age brought a smile to Harry's face.

Harry stood up and walked over to the Potions Master's door to use his bathroom. He knocked once to make sure he wasn't disturbing the man, then entered. The room was brightly lit, and Harry took that to mean that the man was up and seeing to his own morning routine. Harry paused, however, as he noticed that the door to the bathroom was open.

Crossing the room quickly, he determined that the man wasn't in his room at all. Frowning, Harry went into the sitting room and then Snape's office but could not find him. He frowned and was about to assume that the man had gone to breakfast without him when suddenly the man in question entered the room holding several packages.

"Good morning, Potter. I see you've decided against being a worthless lay-about after all."

Harry smiled. "Good morning, Snape. What've you got there?" Harry peered curiously at what Snape held in his hands.

"Several owls were pecking at the head table in the Great Hall this morning. It seems as though they were looking for you. I took the liberty of collecting their fares so they would cease to be as large a nuisance as their masters."

Harry laughed and sat down on the sofa. His eyes scanned the gifts in Snape's arms and one in particular caught his attention. Harry pointed to a small box wrapped in plain brown paper. All the other little packages were gaily wrapped with little notes attached to them and Harry thought that if Snape were going to give him a gift, it would be wrapped just like that one. "Can I see that one?"

"Ah, this. Surely you'd like to open one of these... obscenely wrapped monstrosities first?" Snape held the brightly wrapped packages at arm's length as though the festive paper were insulting him personally.

Harry shook his head and took the brown package from Snape's hands. The Potions Master sat down next to him on the sofa and looked over his shoulder as he unwrapped the brown paper, revealing a black box.

Harry opened the box and peeled back some tissue paper, revealing a very lovely pair of gloves. _Dragon hide gloves_, Harry mentally amended. He ran his hands over the tough fabric and smiled. Then he looked up at Snape to offer his thanks.

"Do not thank me, Potter. I simply mean to make use of your services in brewing some of the more highly volatile potions on the Order's list. You will require thicker gloves than those you have worn in the past if you'd like to keep your hands. You do realize you'd need them if you wish to continue chasing that infernal snitch of yours this year?"

Looking down at the black gloves in the box, Harry felt something stir inside of him. He briefly recalled the dream he'd had the first night he'd come down to Snape's rooms, and the fear he'd been feeling for weeks. He'd been so afraid when he had first come down to the dungeons, so terrified that Snape would have him leave just as he was finally beginning to feel right again. He picked up the gloves and put them on his hands, smiling.

Snape was keeping him.


	17. Prophecy and Prescience

Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling. I do not own Harry Potter and I do not make any money from this story.

Additional disclaimer: I am not Frank Herbert. I did not write Dune and make no money off his incredibly wonderful series. There is a scene in this chapter that is directly influenced by that book. I read it as a child and I had no idea it had affected me as much as it did until I began to write this story. This chapter was planned from the beginning.

Also, I realize this story has been very tame so far but it will be rated M eventually. It will also contain sex between two males and I will not warn you as to when it will happen. Please consider every chapter not safe for work. : )

Thank you so much to my ever-patient beta Torina for the excellent beta. She seriously put hours into this extremely long chapter. She also helped me by giving me one excellent line that is spoken by Remus in this chapter. I also apologize for the updates taking so long. In my outline I had to get through an entire summer in three chapters, hence their length. Updates shouldn't take as long as the chapters should now be somewhat shorter.

Thank you also to WhiteCotton for a Brit Picking and canon beta. She also supplied the idea for what the Weasley twins get Harry for his birthday. And as always a big hello to all the lovely people at Severus Sighs!

Torina has challenged me to write the scene at the end of this chapter in Snape's POV so look out for that in the next day or two.

* * *

Prophecy and prescience — How can they be put to the test in the face of the unanswered questions? Consider: How much is the prophet shaping the future to fit the prophecy? Does the prophet see the future or does he see a line of weakness, a fault or cleavage that he may shatter with words or decisions as a diamond-cutter shatters his gem with a blow of a knife? --- excerpt from Frank Herbert's _Dune_

_*_

Snape watched as Harry unwrapped boxes of sweets from various members of the Weasley clan and a package of something that resembled brown rocks from Hagrid.

"Um, yeah... He usually has these when we go visit him but I think this is the first time he's actually sent them." Harry's nose wrinkled as he brought the inedible biscuits closer to his nose. "It's really nice of him... Just..."

Snape smirked as he used his wand to get rid of the undesirable sweets. "Understandable. I would be hesitant to consume anything made by a man who keeps dragons as pets as well."

Harry's eyes went wide for a moment, and he gave Snape a hesitant look as he said in a quiet voice, "You knew about that?"

Snape scoffed and rolled his eyes. "I believe every professor in residence heard about that incident, Potter. Hagrid is quite loud when intoxicated and the castle is not as large as you seem to think."

Harry laughed as he brushed off a few crumbs of rock cake that had managed to come loose and onto his shirt. "No, I guess it's not." The young man looked around at the boxes and discarded paper that looked so odd in Snape's normally tidy sitting room and said, "I think that was everything."

The Potions Master studied Harry cautiously. The average person would look at Harry and see a content young man enjoying his birthday, but Snape noticed a tinge of sadness in the way his shoulders were set. He belatedly realized that Harry hadn't received a gift from the last remaining member of the Golden Trio.

Snape glanced down to the floor where a plainly wrapped book-shaped object had fallen. Although Harry hadn't said anything, he knew he had been expecting a gift from Granger and had been disappointed when there wasn't one. Snape breathed a sigh of relief at sight of the gift and was glad that no great disappointment would befall Harry today. "Does the great Harry Potter receive so many gifts from his admirers that he would discard one?"

Harry looked down to where Snape was pointing and the relief on his face was noticeable. "Hermione," was all Harry said in response, sounding relieved. "I wonder what this could be." He picked up the package and took it in his hands. Smiling, Harry said, "Maybe it's a puppy."

Snape scoffed. "I wouldn't discount the notion so quickly, especially with the group you're acquainted with. After all, there are those... _things_." Snape pointed to the flashing lightning bolt stickers that were guaranteed to stick to any surface, given to Harry by the Weasley twins. Harry attempted to put one on Snape but quickly discovered that there were still lines to be crossed with the Potions Master, and putting false curse scars on his person was going beyond it.

Harry laughed and began unwrapping the gift. It looked rather thick and heavy to Snape and he found himself curious as to what the know-it-all would give Harry.

Harry unwrapped a book and gave a half-smile. "_Defense Against the Darkest Arts._ I can always count on Hermione to give me something I can actually use."

"Indeed," said Snape as he took the book from Harry's hands without permission and began to leaf through the pages.

"Oh, by all means, please go ahead," Harry laughed at Snape's unceremoniously taking the book from his hands. Snape ignored him and continued looking through the book. Granger had paid no small amount for this tome, Snape thought. It was a newer edition of a very good defense book. He had an older copy on his own shelves.

He continued leafing through the pages, noticing a watermark here and a loose page there. Perhaps Granger had been able to buy the book from a second-hand shop. Several moments passed before he noticed that Harry had been silent for far longer than it should have taken him to read the short note the girl had written.

Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Harry's face pale as he brought one hand up to cover his mouth while the other crumpled the note that had accompanied Granger's gift slightly in his grip.

"Potter?" he asked inquisitively.

Harry looked up from the note to meet Snape's gaze slowly. His expression was blank as he met Snape's eyes and then returned his own to the note for a moment longer. The change in his disposition was extreme; one moment he had been enjoying gifts from his friends and the next he was utterly lost. Snape watched as Harry glanced at the note once more, then lowered his hands to his lap.

"Oh... Nothing. Just Hermione. I guess-"

"What did Granger write that has affected you so?"

Harry attempted to smile but it came out as a grimace.

"No, she's just..." Harry buried his head in his hands and the note fell to the floor. He looked visibly shaken and Snape had to stop himself from reaching out to Harry as he said in a desperately low voice, "She's sad, alright?"

Snape kept his place on the couch even though every instinct in his body told him to take the young man in his arms and do whatever he could to relieve him of his sadness.

The Potions Master refrained from responding to Harry's statement, not entirely sure what to say. In all his time in the dungeons, Harry had never actively sought his comfort. The young man seemed to soak it up somehow, as though just being in Snape's presence was enough to heal him. In the weeks since Harry's arrival in the dungeons he'd made great strides in overcoming his sadness over his friend's death. This was really the first time the subject had been cast into the light since Harry's first night here. And though Snape had witnessed Harry's recovery, he had to admit that he did not have any idea as to how exactly it had come about.

Harry ran his hands through his hair and made a noise that sounded like a sob. "She's just... so sad. And I'm-" Harry cut himself off and turned his face away from Snape.

"And you are not," Snape finished his sentence for him.

Harry sniffed and wiped a hand across his face quickly, his head still leaning towards Snape's bedroom door and not the man himself. "Yeah," Harry said in shaky voice that betrayed his emotional state. "She's sad... And I'm not."

Harry then turned to face the Potions Master. Snape looked closely at the slightly red eyes and the small trace of moisture that Harry's sleeve had missed.

"It's only been two months since..." Harry trailed off and waved a hand through the air.

"Yes," Snape said, nodding and waiting for Harry to finish his sentence. After a moment he prodded, "It has only been two months..."

"It's only been two months since my best friend died and I... I don't feel that way," he said gesturing to the fallen note.

"And precisely what way should you be feeling, Mr. Potter?" Snape asked, leaning back in his spot on the sofa.

Harry scoffed and rolled his eyes. "This," he said, bending down to pick up Granger's note, "is how I should be feeling. She's miserable, Snape. I'm fairly sure these smudges are tear tracks," Harry said as he pointed to the smudged script on the page. "She's lonely and she's miserable and-"

"And you are not," Snape repeated.

Harry looked up and met Snape's eyes. The truth stretched between them as it had in similar moments this past month. "No. I'm not." The fact that the change in Harry's emotional state had stemmed from his time in Snape's dungeons remained unspoken but acknowledged between them.

Snape paused to consider the way he himself had mourned Lily, continued to mourn Lily. But no, Harry's experience with the Weasley boy would be nothing like his own. Harry was no more responsible for Ronald Weasley's death than he was for the sun rising in the east, whereas Snape was still attempting to atone for being the instrument that led to the murder of his own best friend. Harry would not live in the misery that Snape had all these years, not if he could help it.

"Allow me to ask a question, Potter. Tell me, what pains you more at this moment: the pain of your friend's death or the guilt you feel at no longer grieving for him the way you did when the incident first occurred?"

Harry paused and considered the question. He frowned and shook his head, and it seemed as though he was trying to shake the confusion he felt off of himself. "I don't... What?"

Snape turned his body to face Harry and met his eyes, determined to make Harry understand. "Every person handles grief in a different manner. You have mourned your friend and you shall continue to mourn him but your life cannot revolve around the fact that he is no longer among the living. Ask yourself what you feel you should be doing differently, Potter? Force yourself into a depression that you do not feel?" Harry frowned at Snape's words but Snape continued, not allowing Harry to interrupt him. "Every person mourns in their own way. The nature of Miss Granger's and Mr. Weasley's relationship is such that this type of grief is normal for her."

"But mine wasn't. Our relationships with him were different, but he meant just as much to me as he did to her. Is it normal for me to just get over his death in two months time? Two months of grieving for six years of friendship?"

"There is no 'normal' time, no set date when you're allowed to start living your life again. What you're feeling now isn't grief; it's the guilt that we feel once we realize that we have continued to live our lives and our beloved dead have not. Your Miss Granger is not there yet; she is still dwelling in her grief."

"Of course she is. It's only been two months." Harry seemed angry now. "She's a decent person, what she's feeling is normal. I hated that I couldn't mourn Ron. I hated that it was days before I could even think about him for more than two minutes at a time. But I did and-"

"Yes, you did. You mourned him in your own way. Would you like me to borrow the headmaster's pensieve so you can relive your own screaming from that night? Would that convince you that you did in fact feel sorrow?"

Harry drew back in the sofa for a moment with a despondent expression on his face and Snape mentally sighed. He did not have a talent for comforting people. There was no logic in loss.

He paused for a moment before speaking again, giving Harry a moment to recover. "Do you miss him still?"

Harry's eyes grew thunderous at the perceived slight. "What kind of question is that? Of course I miss him."

Snape nodded. "Indeed. And you will continue to miss him all your life. But that is not your current predicament." Harry turned away from Snape and stared at the fire in the hearth, but Snape would have none of it. Perhaps he did not have a gift for comforting people, but he would not leave Harry feeling miserable; not when he could do something about it. Without hesitation, Snape lifted one long-fingered potions-stained hand and turned Harry's face towards him.

It was the first time he had ever voluntarily touched Harry. In every other instance Harry had sought out his touch, laid his hands on Snape's, touched his knee with his own, grazed Snape's back with his fingers.

The distinction did not appear to be lost on Harry.

Eyes wide, Harry listened as Snape began to speak, his chin still in the grasp of Snape's pale hand. "You feel guilt, but not because your friend is dead. You feel guilt because you are no longer thinking about him every moment of every day as you did immediately after his passing. It is on your mind but no longer at the forefront; a dull ache rather than the sharp sting it once was. And with that ache comes the guilt, and that makes the initial pain infinitely worse. Because before it was simply grief and now it has become something else- something that threatens to consume you. You must not allow it."

_Hypocrite_, Snape thought to himself, well aware of the irony that he was the one giving this speech to Harry.

Snape released Harry's face, and his body ached at the loss of warmth. Harry looked down and rubbed the spot on his chin that Snape's hand had just touched. "I don't know." Harry paused a moment, looking off into the distance before speaking again. "I feel like I've been down here in the dungeons... with you... forever. It's almost like we've been in our own little world since June."

Snape nodded in agreement. "Precisely why it was of such import to get you out of the dungeons and into the Great Hall each day, or to Gryffindor tower, or on those walks of mine on which you seemed so pleased to accompany me."

Harry looked down again at Granger's note. He bent over to pick it up and ran his fingers over it, lost in thought.

"I..." Harry closed his eyes and shuddered. "I'm sorry."

It was Snape's turn to frown. "Whatever for?"

"I've been... hiding down here. After Ron... and this whole awful year... Well, two years if you think about it-"

"Potter." Snape waited until Harry turned to face him. "I believe that a small break from the usual stress that is your life has been only to your benefit after what you've endured these past few years. Tell me, when was the last time you were allowed to relax, to sit in silence; to take teas with a friend or discuss advanced defense theory?"

Harry smiled at the last. He nodded slowly and conceded Snape's point.

"It was just so tempting... to rest for a little while. I can't ever recall a time where I've been so..." Harry stopped.

"Yes," Snape said, understanding everything Harry wasn't saying.

"But you're right. I've been hiding out. I can't do that anymore." Harry looked up and met Snape's eyes, determination in his gaze. "We need to start my lessons."

"We will then," Snape replied.

"No, we need to start them right now." Harry rose from the sofa quickly and ran a hand through his hair. "We've lost too much time already. It can't keep on like this. As much as I've enjoyed this time... with you, Snape... you're right. I can't hide anymore."

"Time spent recovering is not time wasted, Potter. And there is no need to start our lessons today. It is your birthday, and I imagine the wolf would like to spend time with you, probably circling that infernal pitch of yours."

Harry frowned and shook his head. "I can see Remus later." He glanced down at Granger's letter again. "I think it's time to stop acting like the world beyond the castle doesn't exist, like reality doesn't exist."

Snape sat quietly for a moment before replying. "Very well. We shall, immediately following breakfast."

Harry turned to Snape, who was still sitting on the sofa, and nodded his assent. He picked up the book that Snape had set down next to him and ran his hands over the title. "Will it ever get any easier? Or will it always just be a different kind of horrible?"

Snape paused to consider how to answer that question, not entirely sure what to say. He couldn't help but think of the pain he had felt, was still feeling, at Lily's loss. He had no desire to make Harry feel as if there was no hope for ever feeling normal again, but at the same time had no desire to lie. "It will get easier as time goes on, but you will always feel the loss." Snape gave a dark chuckle and said, "Trust me, Potter; it will be even more odd when you are thirty and think of your friend who is still seventeen. You will mature and grow but he will not. You will reach thirty and still think back on him and remember him as he was- all red hair, freckles and quidditch."

Harry looked down from where he was standing, his face a mixture of sorrow and wistfulness. He sat down next to Snape, almost on top of him, and turned his head. Their faces were only inches apart.

"Will it never completely go away?"

Never before had the Potions Master wanted to lie as much as he did in that moment. He opened his mouth to utter false platitudes, but none would leave his mouth. In the end, Snape could only lean back, away from the piercing green eyes and beautiful face that constantly threatened to destroy him, and respond with the truth. "If it ever does, Potter, you will be the first I inform."

*************************

"Concentrate, Potter!"

Harry braced himself in his chair as images were pulled forcefully from his mind.

_A quidditch game in his third year; another meeting of Dumbledore's Army in his fifth; Dudley and his gang going 'Harry hunting' when he was a child; Sirius falling through the veil..._

"Stop! Please!" They'd been doing this for hours, and Harry couldn't take any more. He shuddered, and after one more awful moment he felt Snape's intrusive presence recede from his mind.

Harry sank heavily in his chair, panting. He felt more than heard the Potions Master pacing in front of him.

"You are not concentrating, Potter. It was my hope that after all our discussions you would at least be able to grasp the basic idea behind Occlumency with a somewhat firmer hold. As far as I can see you have regressed from where you were two years ago, a fact I would have believed to be impossible."

Harry couldn't argue with the man. It was the middle of August and Harry was no closer to mastering Occlumency now than he had been the first day of their lessons.

They had begun Occlumency and defense training on the thirty-first as Harry had requested, and hadn't stopped until dinner, where Remus had given him a warm greeting and frowned at Snape for keeping him so long on his birthday.

But Harry had been quick to come to the man's defense. He had firmly stated that he had needed to begin the lessons as soon as Snape had been capable, and since the Potions Master had been fully healed, there was no reason not to work as hard as possible for as long as possible. Especially since Snape had been so willing to teach him this time.

When they had first agreed to start his lessons, Harry had been certain they would be much easier. He hadn't had any doubt they would be challenging but they'd been discussing the theory behind Occlumency all month, in ways they hadn't back when Snape had hated him. Harry was sure that these lessons would be just like their potion-making sessions; full of mirth, with Harry succeeding at some things and Snape patiently helping him with those he did not.

He had been wrong.

Defense had taken up the entire morning, from just after breakfast until lunch. And Harry had excelled, Snape had even said so. When he hadn't picked up a spell or theory, a simple explanation or redefinition had usually been enough for Harry to be able to understand and accomplish what Snape had asked. Both Harry and Snape had been pleased that he could quickly pick up material that most wizards had difficulty with.

It was a wonderful bonus that Snape had said he was 'not completely terrible at the discipline.' The man might as well have thrown him a parade for all Harry ate up the praise.

Occlumency, however, had been another story. Harry had fully expected to be able to apply the lessons and discussions he'd had with Snape over the previous month and a half to their practical sessions. He had thought that the two things would simply flow together after all he had learned.

Harry had been very wrong.

"I am trying! I don't understand what I'm doing wrong. Look, I understand what you're telling me- hell, Snape, I've understood it for weeks now!"

"Language, Potter!"

Harry wiped some sweat off his brow and leaned back in his chair, still trying to catch his breath. "I'm trying to tell you that I don't understand what I'm doing wrong. You say that you're actually trying to teach me this time-"

Harry stopped himself as Snape looked down to sneer at him. Harry shuddered and put his head down, not wanting the man to grow angrier with him.

That had been the worst change of all.

Harry had been in Snape's presence constantly since June, and in that time Harry had grown somewhat confident in his friendship with the Potions Master. The man had opened up his home for Harry's sake after Ron had died, and Harry had been grateful. But even more than simple gratitude was the fact that Harry had grown close to Snape.

He'd made a friend.

The quiet talks they had shared every morning and night had been precious to Harry, and he had soaked up the Potions Master's presence as much as he could. There was a peace and understanding between them that Harry didn't quite understand, and the times when Snape allowed him to touch him were like nothing he'd ever experienced before. He didn't know why he felt different touching Snape than when he touched anyone else. He only knew that he loved Snape's hands; loved the feel of his cloak on his fingers and loved how Snape would look at him when he touched him. He could never explain that look, he only knew it gave him the most curious feelings. But what he did know was that Snape had been his friend.

Had been.

The usually very reserved man had occasionally allowed his barriers to slip, and Harry had witnessed something kind and beautiful in the Potions Master. Something that Harry was certain only he could see.

And he was absolutely terrified of all of that ending. For the past two weeks their evening conversations had consisted of revising Occlumency until Harry was mentally as well as physically exhausted. The quiet talks and relaxing evenings they had shared had become a thing of the past, and Harry mourned their loss.

Two weeks ago he had been sure of the Potions Master's esteem; now he was not nearly so certain. The truth was Harry was completely terrified of losing Snape's friendship permanently if he didn't get Occlumency down soon.

"We have discussed this topic to the point where you should be able to write tomes on it, Potter. You are simply not trying hard enough," Snape said once again, a familiar sneer plastered on his face.

Harry hated it. He hated how Snape was once again treating him as "Potter," the only son of his oldest enemy. Before this summer, Harry had hated the way Snape had treated him- hated even the Potions Master himself- because of the unfairness of it all; it wasn't his fault that James Potter had treated him poorly.

But he hated it so much more now that he knew he could never hate the Potions Master again. If he could have had one wish in that moment, while Snape loomed over him, frustration and disappointment coloring his features, it wouldn't have been the death of Voldemort. All he wanted in that moment was the ability to block the Potions Master's attacks and to see the anger fade from those black eyes.

Harry put his face in his hands and leaned down in his chair. "I am, Snape. I swear I am. I'm just not good at this."

"_Good_ has nothing to do with it, boy! This is a skill to be learned, not something that is acquired naturally. You cannot bring yourself to put effort into anything that does not come easily to you." Snape's robes swept around him as he walked around his office and approached Harry's chair.

"Only once you discover an affinity for something do you even attempt to hone those skills. Think of the two things you excel at: quidditch and defense. Both things come naturally to you. And perhaps you have worked to improve at them, but you have never had to try as hard for anything in your life as you must now."

Harry nodded. He knew what Snape was saying was true, but that didn't make it any easier to hear. If only he could block a little, make some small improvement, maybe Snape would stop looking at him the way he was now.

Like he hated him.

Harry continued to keep his head down, not wanting to look Snape in the eye. He was terrified at what he was sure he'd see there.

_Just one kind word, _Harry thought._ Just some sign that he doesn't hate me again._

_Please._

"Anything to say for yourself, Potter?" Snape growled, standing close enough that Harry could feel as his robes swayed towards him. If this had occurred two weeks ago, he'd have looked up at Snape and laughed. He couldn't do that now.

He'd asked for this, he reminded himself. He knew that he had hidden out for far too long. They needed to do this, Harry thought. It was necessary.

But did it have to come at the expense of something he held so dear? Would the price of learning Occlumency be the one friendship he treasured above all others?

As much as he loved Hermione, he had to admit to himself that he held Snape closer. Snape, who had suffered as he had suffered; Snape, who was in as much, if not more, danger than himself. Snape, who knew what the cold grasp of prophecy and Fate felt like.

Suddenly something occurred to Harry. All his past conversations with Snape about Fate flooded his mind, and Harry heard the Potions Master's voice echoing in his head, telling him repeatedly about this thing they were both caught in the middle of, this Fate that Harry didn't entirely understand, even now. It was the only thing he could think of that could explain his continuing failure.

"Maybe... Maybe I'm not supposed to learn this."

Snape stopped his pacing, his entire body jerking to a sudden halt. "What did you say?" His voice was a harsh whisper, his eyes cold as he turned his gaze upon Harry.

Harry looked up and sure enough, the Potions Master's glare was enough to cause him to shudder in his chair. But Harry straightened and didn't back down.

"I said, maybe I'm not supposed to learn this. What if it's fate that I don't learn Occlumency? I mean, if we're both trying so hard and it's still not coming _at all,_ then maybe... Maybe that's how Vol- You-Know-Who is going to get to me in the end. What if I'm not supposed to be able to do this?"

It was the only thing he could think of, the only thing that explained why this wasn't working now that he was trying his hardest to learn and Snape was trying just as hard to teach him. He held Snape's gaze, waiting for the inevitable explosion.

He didn't have to wait long.

"You believe you're not supposed to learn Occlumency? You would dare blame your inability to master the simplest of Occlumentic concepts on prophecy? Claim that your ignorance is _meant to be_? That it's due to _Fate_?" Snape spat out the words, and Harry had to stop himself from wiping spittle from his face.

"You... stupid, lazy child." Snape stood over Harry, and he could see his teeth as the man growled at him. "Do you still believe that Fate will aid you in this fight, boy? That you are _special,_ and can sit back and wait for the end to come and that all will miraculously work out in your favor?"

Harry shook his head. That wasn't exactly what he'd meant. "No, I just-"

"You know nothing of Fate or prophecy. Do you still not understand what I have told you? Did that feeble brain of yours not deign to listen to one word I said on the train? Did you simply close your ears when we spoke in the infirmary? Prophecies are self-fulfilling; the fact that you have been foretold to kill or be killed by the Dark Lord does not guarantee it will come to pass." Snape paced the area in front of Harry like a caged animal. "And should some miracle occur and the prophecy is fulfilled, would you not like to meet your opponent possessing the necessary skills to defeat him on your own instead of simply _hoping_ that Fate will do it for you? Will you truly stop practicing the magic most necessary to your continued survival on the chance that Fate may have deemed it unnecessary?"

"No, but I-"

Snape raised his hand sharply, cutting Harry off. "Tell me, do you honestly believe the drivel that just came from your mouth, Potter?"

Harry stared at the Potions Master as he sneered at Harry, as all the old hate and vitriol returned. Harry lamented the loss of their easy camaraderie. He wanted to turn away, to not see Snape's eyes grow cold as he stared down at Harry and the man grew further and further away from him.

But he wouldn't lie to him. And there had to be some reason why he couldn't learn Occlumency, some reason why this was so difficult.

Harry sighed. "I believe that you're trying your hardest to teach me, Professor," Harry said, and the use of his title wasn't lost on Snape. "And I truly am trying to learn this. I listen to everything you say, I clear my mind before I sleep every night. I'm trying to block but... I'm just not getting it. And I thought that just maybe, there was a reason for that."

Snape did not visibly react to Harry's words at first. He continued to stare down at him, his eyes cold and menacing and his hands in fists by his side. Then he lowered his wand, grabbed a chair, and sat down in front of Harry.

Harry watched as Snape's shoulders fell a bit and he rubbed his temples in frustration. Harry felt incredibly guilty at all he was putting the man through. He knew that Snape had a vested interest in Harry's success in the war, but that didn't mean he had to allow Harry all he did. The only time the two were separate, even now, was when either of them was in the bathroom and at night when they slept. And as much as Harry hated the way Snape had been looking at him since his daily failures at Occlumency had begun, he hated the idea of being away from the man even more.

"Let me ask you a question, Potter and bear with me, please." Harry blinked and sat back in his chair.

That was the most civil the potions professor had sounded outside of his quarters in two weeks.

Harry nodded and motioned for the man to speak. Snape steepled his hands, leaned back in his chair, and asked, "Tell me, Potter- are you an animal?"

Harry visibly flinched and could not help repeating, "An animal?"

"Yes, Potter," Snape answered. "Are you an animal?" he clearly enunciated.

Harry frowned and shook his head, not sure he understood. "No."

"I ask because only an animal would give up control of their life. Only an animal would not wish to take responsibility for how his life, or in your case, death, would play out. Do you understand?"

Harry didn't. Very aware that his confusion would anger the Potions Master, Harry let out a soft, "No."

Snape was silent for a moment as he tapped his mouth with one finger. Harry watched the wayward digit hit his lips until they began to move again.

"Do you understand the difference between an animal and a human being?" Harry looked up through the black, sweat-soaked hair that was hanging in front of his eyes and considered the man in front of him. He had no idea how to respond, or what Snape wanted to hear.

"I don't know what you want me to say."

Snape acknowledged that with a nod and said, "An animal does not have free will. It is a slave to its instincts and reactions. Its brain functions do not allow for thoughts other than survival and continuation of its species."

Harry silently acknowledged what Snape was saying with a nod of his head, not knowing how else to respond to what the man was saying.

Snape sighed loudly and rubbed his temples before looking up and considering Harry again, determination etched into his features. "Another question. You are walking through the woods and you become caught in a trap; the kind that men use to trap bears and other large predators. You do not have your wand and there is no help for miles around. What would you do?"

Harry lifted his eyebrows at the odd question. Hadn't they just been discussing Fate a moment ago? Harry had no idea what Snape was talking about and could not hide that fact from showing on his face.

"Let me make this easier for you to understand." Harry's eyes met the floor. Unlike in previous weeks, he did not laugh at the Potions Master's reference to his lack of intelligence.

"Perhaps it's a different kind of trap, different circumstances. You and your friends are trapped in Riddle Manor and you do not have your wand. You do, however, have some sort of sharp object. So I ask you, would you cut off your foot to escape from the trap or would you stay in order to kill the Death Eater when he returned and help the other captives?"

Harry raised his gaze from the ground, alarmed at the question Snape had just posed. "Cut off my own foot?" Harry repeated in indignation, having no idea how Snape had come from Occlumency to self-mutilation.

Snape sighed in frustration. "It's a metaphor, Potter; a hypothetical question. I am sure you will never actually be in a situation where you would have to cut off your own foot." Snape removed his face from his hands and looked up at Harry. "And cease your attempts to determine the relation to Occlumency and simply answer me."

Harry blinked as he tried to wrap his mind around Snape's question. "I'd stay, I guess," Harry answered slowly. "I'd stay and try and outsmart the Death Eater and help to free the others."

"Precisely. You would do that to eliminate the threat to your friends... because you are not an animal. You would not simply do the first thing that came to mind. You would not succumb to your animal instincts and allow all thought to leave that underused brain of yours. An animal seeks only to survive, to do the least possible to ensure that end. This is what you are doing with Occlumency. You have built your life around this prophecy, assuming it will come to pass on its own- but it will not. You must work to that end. Do you understand?"

Harry's mind was trying to keep up with what Snape was saying. He had no desire to anger the man, especially when he was no longer yelling at Harry as he had been for these past two weeks. He struggled to think about what Snape had said again but couldn't concentrate. He was still too tired from the continuous attacks on his mind.

"No, I'm sorry, Snape, but I don't."

Snape sneered and bared his teeth again, and Harry flinched. Snape seemed to realize the turmoil Harry was feeling and sat back in his seat again, trying to distance himself from him.

Snape studied Harry from his chair, the sneer falling from his face. He put one long, potions-stained finger to his lip once again and tapped it rhythmically. Harry watched as the thin lips were mildly abused by the pale digit.

Suddenly, Snape's features hardened with determination. He stood up and walked over to the painting behind his desk, muttered something under his breath, and opened the safe behind it. Harry watched as the man put on the gloves that were lying in the safe and took out a jar. Snape carefully opened the jar, then put his gloved hand inside and took something out. He set the object gently on the desk before closing the jar and putting it back in the safe.

Then, short object in hand, he came towards Harry.

"Do you know what I now hold in my hand, Potter?"

Harry shook his head. It looked like some kind of needle or quill.

"This is a stinger from the knarl, whose spikes contain some of the most deadly venom in the world. They can be of use in several antidotes for highly toxic poisons and their use is heavily policed by the Ministry. One touch from the point of this would bring death to the affected person within moments." Snape leaned over and said in a voice that was almost a whisper, "But _this_ particular stinger will kill only animals."

Harry shuddered, both at the dark tone Snape's words took and as the ominous look in his eye. "What?"

Snape turned back to his desk, opened the last drawer, and pulled out a white handkerchief and quill. He walked over and sat down in his chair in front of Harry and said, "Do not move."

The light sweat that had ceased started up again as Harry took in the warning tone and obeyed immediately. He watched as the hand that was not occupied with the stinger unfolded the handkerchief and laid it on Harry's left hand. He heard a snapping sound and turned just in time to see Snape toss the quill aside. The short stinger was in his left hand and he grasped his wand with his right.

Then Snape lifted his hand and put the stinger right next to Harry's neck.

Harry flinched.

"I said, do not move, boy! I am going to give you a little test, Potter. You seem to have great difficulty in understanding things without demonstration. I will therefore demonstrate for you the difference between a human and an animal."

Fresh sweat poured from Harry's brow. He felt the long fingers near his neck; felt them as they grazed the soft hairs that covered it but never came close enough to actually touch him. Snape's face was inches away from his, and his entire body was almost on top of him. The Potions Master placed the tip of his wand on top of his covered hand.

Harry distantly recalled being this close to Snape before, but under much different circumstances. Was it only two weeks ago that Snape had allowed Harry to sit this close to him? In that moment, it felt like it had been an eternity since he had been so close to this man.

"I hold at your neck one of the most potent poisons in the world. This test will determine if you are capable of resisting your animalistic instincts. Your instinct will be to remove your hand from beneath my wand. The rules of this test are simple: if you do not move, I shall not prick you. Move and you will die."

"What?" Harry tried to move away but Snape snarled and used just the tip of one of his fingers to keep Harry in place.

It worked. Though Harry was sure Snape wouldn't actually kill him, his body went into fight-or-flight mode and instantly stilled upon feeling the cool digit on the soft part of his neck.

"Silence, Potter, silence! You think this is some game? You think I would leave the fate of the wizarding world in the hands of some animal? Some beast with no care in the world and no brain to survive the war he finds himself in the middle of?"

"You wouldn't hurt me! You wouldn't! Not after-"

"Wouldn't I? I have spent the last seventeen years of my life trying to atone for my sins, trying to protect you in any way I could, and I'll be _damned_ if I'll have given my life only for you to squander it needlessly!"

"No one's asking you to give up your life!"

"Silence! You will be silent, Potter, you imbecilic twit, and do what you do best- learn by example! We shall see whether you are truly human or not."

Harry's breath came out in pants, his mind whirling. There was no way Snape would ever harm him, he was sure of it. But- The man was going very far to prove his point. Harry stilled and tried to slow his breathing, waiting for Snape to begin his test. Harry was sure that if anyone were to walk in right now they would be an odd sight to behold: Harry panting and panicked with sweat dripping down his brow, and Snape holding his hand at his neck with his wand trained on Harry's left hand. Add to that their proximity and yes, they'd make an odd sight indeed.

Harry knew he should calm down, but he couldn't. He was sure Snape wouldn't hurt him but he could still sense something important was happening. Maybe Snape wouldn't kill him if he failed the test but... He'd definitely lose respect for him. Any good thoughts Snape might have had about Harry would be destroyed if he proved to be what Snape feared he was. And then everything Harry had gained in the past months would be gone; he'd be alone again.

Somehow death didn't seem so bad all of a sudden.

"You will feel... a soft touch on your hand... there."

Harry moved only his eyes to look down upon feeling a feather-soft touch on his hand right where the tip of Snape's wand rested. The touch wasn't bad at all; it was actually quite pleasant. It felt like the Potions Master's fingers were touching him as they had when he'd grasped his hand in the past.

"Don't become used to that, Potter." Harry's eyes snapped up to meet the Potions Master's. "This is only the beginning." Snape glared at Harry, never taking his black eyes off Harry's green. "The touch becomes a tickling."

Harry fought not to flinch when the touch began to tickle his hand. He looked back down to his hand to see if Snape was actually touching it, but Snape's wand was still where it had been, and he met those dark eyes again through his fringe. They were cold and determined, but Harry was just as determined to pass this test. Maybe he couldn't understand Occlumency, maybe he wasn't as smart as Snape, and maybe he didn't learn quite as well as Snape thought he should... But he could do this.

Harry gritted his teeth as determination took over his countenance. There was no way he'd fail this. There was no chance that he'd fail Snape. Not now. Not after all Snape had given him.

"The tickling becomes an itching. Do you wish to scratch it, Potter?"

Harry wanted to nod. Yes, he wanted to scratch it. The itch was something horrible and he had to fight every instinct not to move a muscle.

"The itching becomes greater and greater until it becomes a slight... burning."

Harry's right hand became a fist and he bit his lip to keep from crying out. It wasn't a bad kind of burning, like the way he imagined fire would feel. It was more like the sting of a sunburn after getting under the shade. It was dulled but it was there, and he knew if Snape were to slap his hand he'd have to use every ounce of willpower to keep from flinching and moving his hand away.

He would not move his hand.

"The burning grows..." Snape gritted his teeth and continued whatever silent incantation he was using to make Harry feel this... strange almost-pain.

"Snape-" Harry started to say but immediately cut himself off when he felt a sort of tap on his burned hand and he used every ounce of control to keep from flinching. The pain wasn't horrible but it was there and it was steady... like someone slapping his hand repeatedly with a ruler.

Still, he didn't move; he knew Snape wouldn't truly hurt him. Just as he started to feel something like alcohol being poured on his burned hand, Harry truly took in the Potions Master's expression for the first time since he had begun the exercise. Snape's teeth were clenched and his trademark scowl was gone. What graced his features could only be described as a look of horror and pain. Snape no longer met his eyes, instead moving his gaze across his face, as if trying to sense how badly Harry was hurting.

But Harry could stand it. He'd stand all of this if only Snape would stop looking at him like he had been; stop treating him like he was some burden, some albatross tied around his neck.

Sweat was pouring from his brow, and Harry could have sworn he felt a bit of salt get into his wounds. He bit his lip to keep from crying out.

Snape was beginning to look sick.

Harry was visibly shaking but he held on with all his strength, determined to pass this test. Green eyes met black as Harry quietly pleaded, "You're hurting me."

Snape's wand hand shook. "Enough!" Snape moved his hand away from Harry's neck and quickly dropped the stinger on the floor.

Harry immediately fell back into his chair as the pain stopped, wiping the sweat from his brow with one hand while he examined the other- the one that had been hurting.

It was unmarked and looked exactly as it had prior to Snape covering it with his handkerchief.

"A spell that simulates mild pain," Snape said, slightly out of breath himself. "We can't go around maiming young humans, now can we, Potter?"

Harry looked up through his damp fringe and stared at Snape. He was unsure how to move, how to react now. Snape hadn't hurt him. He'd passed the Potions Master's test.

Snape was still looking at him strangely. Not with that awful cold stare but not as he had before either. Harry didn't know what to make of it, and was unsure as to where he stood with the Potions Master.

Finally, the man sighed, took off his gloves and put his hand over Harry's.

"Potter... Harry," Snape said, and Harry's eyes went wide. He hadn't called him Harry since that horrible day. And it had only been to get Harry's attention after a traumatic event.

_Oh_.

"Harry," Snape whispered softly, stroking the top of Harry's hand with his fingers. "I regret what I just did to you, but I had to make you understand. Prophecy is not something that can be assumed or hoped for. It is an unclear vision of a future that may not happen. You cannot put such faith in it. I realize that it is difficult... That your burden is not light. But you must carry it if you're to survive the coming battles. You must, Harry. If there is one thing I must impart to you, it is this."

Harry was silent. He didn't know if he could respond if he had to. All he was aware of was the adrenaline rush he was coming down from and the Potions Master's hand on his and his body so close to his own. He found himself calming as Snape continued his ministrations on Harry's hand.

"I will help you in any way I can but I cannot bear this cross for you. I will, however, do everything I am capable of to prepare you to do this on your own. Will that be acceptable?"

Harry nodded and turned his hand around, grabbing Snape's and lacing their fingers together. His hand was warm around Harry's own.

He understood.

Snape cleared his throat and released Harry's hand. Snape stood, and Harry's gaze fell to the desk. He blinked in shock, and when he opened his eyes the vision before him hadn't changed- the stinger Snape had removed from the cabinet, and a feathery end of a quill. His eyes darted to the floor as Snape put his gloves back on to pick up the stinger, and sure enough- there lay the broken end of the quill Snape had taken from his desk.

He blinked and stifled an exhausted chuckle.

Harry was admittedly much more shocked than he should have been, though he knew it shouldn't have surprised him in the least. The man was a spy, after all.

He continued to sit in his chair, catching his breath. And though Snape's test had left no residual pain, Harry said nothing as the Potions Master took out a burn salve and began slowly rubbing it into his hand.

**********************

Two weeks after Snape's harsh but necessary practical demonstration, Harry was still not able to block the man's initial attacks on his mind. Even now it took a strong emotional response to give Harry the willpower to push the Potions Master out. The pattern was always the same; Snape would slide through his memories like water over a rock and sort through mundane activities one after another until he found something traumatic enough to force Harry to react. His reaction time was becoming quicker as the days went by, but that was of no matter. Once the Dark Lord entered Harry's mind, all hope was lost- it didn't matter how long it took Harry to push him out afterward.

He would know exactly what to look for. Exactly which buttons to push and Harry would never know what hit him.

"_Legilmens_."

This time appeared to be no different as Snape infiltrated Harry's mind with the ease of a hot knife sliding through butter.

_The sorting hat telling Harry that he'd do well in Slytherin, Granger opening the door on the third floor corridor with _alohamora_, Harry running through the maze during the third task, Harry being shielded by Snape's body as he felt a dead weight fall on him..._

"No," Harry muttered, finally able to push the man from his mind.

Snape withdrew completely and shook his head. For two weeks it had been exactly the same. Sometimes it was Diggory, or Black or Weasley or seeing his parents in the Mirror of Erised- but it was always something that Harry was unwilling to relive that would finally give him what was needed to drive him out.

Snape had no idea how to teach mind magic to someone so ruled by their emotions. While learning Occlumency had been a challenge for him, it was nowhere near as impossible as Harry made it seem. The Potions Master had simply applied magic to the theory of the art and practiced; really it had only been a magical extension of what he had already been doing in his everyday life; hiding himself away. But Harry wore his heart on his sleeve, could not hide his every thought from showing on his face; and after a month of fruitless training, Snape was forced to conclude that Harry's personality was simply not conducive to this type of magic.

"Still inadequate, Potter. You are still incapable of resisting the initial invasion, and it continues to take you far too much time to force me out." Snape sighed and paced the room. "The Dark Lord would tear your mind to shreds within moments."

Harry wiped a light sheen of sweat off his brow with his sleeve then looked up to face Snape. The Potions Master was relieved to see his face was not as crestfallen as it had been in the weeks before.

Snape had hated having to treat Harry as he had those first two weeks. After nearly two months of waking up to a cheerful young wizard, a Harry that was flourishing in the dungeons under Snape's watchful eye, it had been almost physically painful to see him turn quiet and sullen. It was almost as if Harry had lost his best friend all over again.

Which was exactly how Snape had felt himself.

Gone had been the long talks on his sofa in the evenings and the times of companionable silence while brewing potions; they had been replaced by drumming theory after theory of Occlumency into Harry's fatigued mind long into the night. Snape had been exhausted and he knew Harry had been suffering that and more. He had hated to see the mournful looks on Harry's face, hated the sadness he saw there whenever Harry deigned to look him in the eye. Those times had grown more frequent as the days went by.

After two weeks of unproductive lessons, Snape had established for himself once again that Harry's Occlumency skills were abysmal. This realization had convinced Severus to do whatever was necessary to facilitate Harry's learning of Occlumency, and he had gone in to that awful lesson two weeks ago determined to drill the art into Harry's head if it killed him. Then Harry had opened his mouth and uttered the most idiotic thing he had ever heard.

And so on that fateful day, Snape had made a very daring move; a choice not many would have understood. He had risked Harry's hatred and loathing when he had taken that stinger from his safe. He had known the young man learned better with practical instruction, but he had also known that he was playing with fire. Harry would have had every right to hate him for causing him any kind of pain, nonetheless for threatening his life in the way he had.

But he had needed to understand that he could not put all his faith in the prophecy; simply hope that it would come true. He, of all people, needed to take responsibility for his life. And so Snape had done the only thing he could think of at the moment and threatened to end his life should he have proven to be anything less than what Snape knew he was.

No matter that it had been an eagle-feather quill by his neck the entire time. No matter that the young man had felt pain much worse than the stinging hexes Snape had cast on him.

He had caused Harry pain, and it had nearly torn the remains of his shattered soul to shreds. It had nearly killed him to see the panic in those green eyes, hear the fear in Harry's voice. He had seen Harry terrified and in pain before, but never by Snape's hand. He would have given anything to not have had to do what he had done.

But he had risked it. He would have risked Harry hating him a million times over just to see him safe. All that mattered to Snape was ensuring that Harry would indeed survive this war. If he lost Harry's goodwill in the process... Well, that would be just one more sacrifice he would have to make in the name of atonement, in the name of protecting Harry.

Snape snapped himself out of his thoughts in time to see Harry look up to offer him a weak smile, and he had to stop himself from smiling back; reassuring the young man with his presence as he had so many times before their practical lessons had started.

He was willing to sacrifice his closeness with Harry in the name of protecting him. All the same, he was eternally grateful that the gods did not appear to hate him entirely, and that Harry had understood the test and passed.

And if he had noticed that it was a quill by his neck the entire time, then all the better. Really, the half-wit should know by now that Snape would give his life for him. It wouldn't make sense to kill the brat after having risked his own life for him so many times.

"That was a bit better, wasn't it? I mean... er...." Harry trailed off as he took in Snape's frown. "No, then?"

"If that was an improvement, the headmaster's robes are tasteful. And what in Merlin's name was that damned patched monstrosity doing spewing lies that you would have done well in Slytherin?

Harry grinned and choked a bit as he stifled a chuckle.

Yes, that was back as well, though he didn't laugh as often as before. And though Snape stopped the smile from showing on his face, he knew he could not keep it from his eyes.

Suddenly there was a knock, and before Snape could so much as bark 'enter,' Remus Lupin walked through the door.

Snape had not felt so much venom for the man since their school days. Although he realized that he only saw Lupin twice a day at meals, it felt as if the man was trailing his steps constantly. Lupin had not sought Snape out the way the Potions Master had presumed he would. Perhaps that was because Harry was constantly in Snape's presence; Lupin would surely not wish to discuss such matters in front of him.

"Good evening, Harry, Severus," Lupin said, almost strolling through Snape's office.

The Potions Master sneered his greeting, and Harry sat up straighter in his chair.

"Hello, Remus," the young man said in a weak but bright voice.

Lupin frowned as he took in Harry's demeanor. "Are you alright, Harry?" He quickly looked between the two of them, no doubt casting blame on Snape for the young man's pale face and shaky disposition.

Which was where it belonged, but that was of no matter.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just... still having trouble with Occlumency." Harry shrugged carelessly, as if he had this much difficulty with most of his studies.

"Still no progress, then?"

Snape gave a cutting "no" the same moment Harry issued a hesitant "um..."

Lupin chuckled. The sound of it reverberating in Snape's dungeons would surely begin to slowly destroy the very bricks that composed the walls.

"Well, I'm sure you'll get it soon enough, Harry," Lupin said with a cheerfulness that was completely unbecoming in Snape's opinion.

Harry's face fell and he looked over to Snape, who made an attempt to give him a look of reassurance even though he didn't feel any was warranted.

"Was there a reason for your interrupting our lessons with your tiresome presence or did you simply wake this morning with the sudden desire to be meddlesome and irritating?"

In the years since they had been colleagues, Lupin had taken to simply laughing off all of Snape's most cutting remarks, much to the Potions Master's chagrin. He really should have been quite pleased at the completely straight face Lupin was giving in response to his latest barb.

He was not.

"Yes, I actually did have a reason to come down." He turned toward Harry and said, "The headmaster would like you to see him in his office, Harry. He may have implied that you needed a bit of a break from Professor Snape." Lupin smiled as he spoke but the change in address was not lost on the Potions Master.

Harry stood on shaky legs that threatened to buckle for a moment. Both Snape and Lupin immediately lunged for him, but Harry righted himself and put up a hand.

"I'm fine. Just a bit tired, is all." Harry looked nervous as he looked to Snape and asked, "Will we be resuming our lessons when I come back?"

Snape looked at Lupin and then back at Harry. "I believe a small recess would not go amiss. I will be in my quarters when your return."

Harry eyes lit up and a small but noticeable smile played on his lips. He looked between Lupin and Snape and said, "Alright, see you then."

Lupin met Snape's eyes as his gaze left Harry.

Their silent stare remained unbroken for the time it took for Harry to slowly walk to the door and close it behind him.

And then it was just the two men, with a heavy silence hanging between them.

Severus wouldn't allow the wolf to pass judgment on him this time either- especially not in his own territory.

"Well, Lupin, you have played the role of errand boy admirably. I believe you know the way out of the dungeons." Snape began to step back around his desk to clean up after the day's lessons.

Lupin continued to look at him, though Snape was forced to acknowledge that it was not a hard stare. It was almost as if he was studying Snape.

"We need to talk, Severus."

"No, we do not and we will not," Snape said from behind his desk. He could feel his temper threatening to get away from him and he struggled to calm himself.

"We do and we will. You've been avoiding me for weeks."

Snape banged his fist on the desk and said in a voice close to a shout, "I've done no such thing! It is no fault of mine if you have somehow acquired some fool idea into that lupine brain of yours. I will not have you attack me in my own home."

"I have no desire to attack you, Severus. But I do have questions and I need answers," Lupin said, his voice infuriatingly calm.

"What questions could you possibly have that I would be willing to answer? What perceived wrongdoings have you assigned to me? Because I assure you there are none."

Perhaps that last part was not completely true, Snape thought. After all, he knew that his feelings for Harry were not even close to acceptable. He knew that his desire in and of itself was the most horrible of sins, but he was hardly going to confess that to Lupin or allow questions on the topic to be voiced.

"I'm not accusing you of anything, Severus... Love is not a crime."

Snape stiffened. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Don't be ridiculous, Severus. A blind man could tell you're in love with Harry."

And just like that, the filthy thing that Snape had kept trapped in the dark for nearly three months was let out into the open with no way to force it back into its shady hiding place.

Snape summoned his darkest glare and forced a snide laugh. "If you believe that, you truly are a fool. I am no more besotted with Potter than I am with Black's dead, decaying corpse."

The vicious attack on the dog had no effect on Lupin, seeming to go in one ear and out the other without connecting to his brain at all. A dozen scathing retorts concerning a werewolf's brain functions died on Snape's lips as Lupin spoke again.

"Your patronus is a doe, Severus."

"Yes, it is," Snape said without hesitation.

"Harry's patronus is a stag."

"Yes, and your patronus is a wolf. By your line of logic you must be a greater narcissist than Lucius Malfoy." Snape sneered when Lupin once again did not react to his remark. "Or perhaps it's not a wolf. Perhaps it's some flea-ridden mutt of a dog with even less sense than its animagus counterpart."

Lupin again ignored his comment, which only annoyed Snape more. "Your patronus was always a raven, Severus. And then Harry came to live with you and it became a doe." Lupin put a up a hand and said, "Please don't try to deny it, Severus. It's not just that your patronus has changed. I've seen it with my own eyes."

Snape lifted an eyebrow with a false sense of haughtiness as he took in Lupin's words. That last statement was an utter falsehood, he was sure of it. He had never laid a hand on Harry in Lupin's presence, and even when he had... Well, perhaps the touches had not been innocent but they certainly could not be proof of any wrongdoing. Snape's conscience and iron-clad self-control may have suffered due to Harry's continued presence, but there was no way Lupin could be aware of that.

"I never took you for a liar, Lupin."

This time the slight was noted.

"I'm not the man who's made a career of lying, Severus. I saw you... That day in the corridor in front of Dumbledore's office. I don't know what you were talking about but I saw you."

Snape frowned, confused though he refused to show it.

"I have no idea what you're rambling on about. You saw what, Lupin?"

Remus sighed and ran a hand over his face. "Is there no way we can sit for this discussion, Severus?"

"If you're waiting for me to invite you to my quarters and break out the good tea you will be waiting a very long time."

Lupin sighed again and leaned against the chair Harry had been sitting in. Snape glared at the sight of Lupin touching what was essentially Harry's.

"There," Lupin said as he pointed a finger at him. "Right there. You don't even know you're doing it, do you?"

Snape knew exactly what he had been caught doing but would be damned if he would admit it. "You should end your incessant rambling before I do it for you."

Lupin shook his head in exasperation. "The day you sent me your patronus, Severus. The day you sent me the doe you were out walking the corridor with Harry. He was... almost dancing around you and waving his wand around like a sword, and I saw you." Remus waited until Snape looked him in the eye, realization coming over the Potions Master.

"I saw the way you were looking at him. I've never seen you look at anyone like that, Severus. In fact, I've seen that look on a person's face precious few times in my life. I saw James look at Lily that way. I've seen Molly look at Arthur. I may have never had it for myself, but I know what love looks like."

Snape forced himself out of his slightly shocked state to snarl, "I do not wish to hear about the sorry state of your love life, Lupin, nor do I have the desire to wax poetic with idiotic old schoolmates; especially not those that once tried to kill me."

"I know you're in love with him, Severus. We both know it, so why won't you admit it? If you think that I'm angry or that I'll tell-"

"I do not care what you feel about things you have imagined in that lycanthropic brain of yours, Lupin. Potter is my student and my charge. If you have mistaken the desire not to see him perish by the hand of the Dark Lord for anything else, it is no problem of mine."

"You _are_ in love with him, Severus... And Harry is in love with you."

Snape could not prevent the snap of his jaw as the next scathing retort he had on his lips faded into nothingness at Lupin's proclamation. He could not help visibly stiffening for a fraction of a second, or keep his eyes from opening wider or his nostrils from flaring as his entire body seemed to stand on end at the lie that had just left Lupin's lips.

"No, he is not," Snape said darkly.

Lupin smiled, sadly and nodded. "Yes, he is." The other man crossed his arms over his chest and continued to look Snape in the eye. "But he doesn't realize it. It's almost tragic that a young man so capable of love doesn't realize what it is when it's standing right in front of him."

Snape breathed deeply and forced his body to relax. Lupin was lying. Harry was not in love with him. There was no way in all the seven layers of hell that Harry could ever return his feelings. He shuddered to think what level of torment he would be condemned to if anything he had said or done had engendered such feelings in the young man.

_Please, no._

"He is not," Snape said in a far less convincing tone than he had used earlier. He could almost feel the anger at his current situation drain from him as something more horrifying, more impossible, more vexing came in to take residence in his chest.

It felt like hope.

Snape immediately smashed it down.

"Potter's not even gay."

Lupin hummed noncommittally. "No, maybe not but I wouldn't really know. We've never discussed it." Lupin paused, considering something. "We've never discussed the topic of sex or his preferences at all now that I think about it. But I hardly think it matters. The fact remains that he is in love with you."

"It hardly matters? Perhaps you have even less experience in these matters than I would have assumed a man your age would have."

Lupin chucked under his breath. "He's with you constantly, Severus, and when he's not he can't stop talking about you. You were all he wanted to talk about when we spent time together. Whatever his preferences in general are, it's clear that he wants you." Lupin paused for a moment, then laughed. "Come to think of it, I probably know more about you than you'd like me to know."

Snape tried to sound angry but it sounded forced even to him. "What lies has Potter been spewing about me?"

Lupin chuckled lightly. "Nothing too personal. I'm sure he would never betray your secrets willingly, but he lets things slip sometimes." Lupin thought for a moment and said, "I know you have black house slippers."

Snape scoffed. It would figure that Harry would reveal something like that.

"Severus," Lupin said, serious again, "I know you both have strong feelings for each other. But I need to know... You'll not act on it, will you?"

Snape did not have to falsify his anger now. He was unsure what part of Lupin's question angered him more; the idea that he was so ridiculously unworthy of Harry or the insinuation that he would ever tarnish anyone so pure and beautiful with his vile affections.

"Let me put your simple mind at ease, Lupin," Snape sneered in a low voice, all but growling as he moved to stand closer to Lupin. "I will not taint the boy wonder whom you cherish so much that you did not wonder after his welfare for the first thirteen years of his life." Lupin frowned, and Snape knew he had found a weak spot.

Snape moved closer and loomed over the smaller man as he said softly, "I assure you that these bloodied hands will never touch your savior. There does not exist a situation in which I would... defile him with such attentions. So please, Lupin, put it out of your mind. The filthy, traitorous spy will never lay a finger on your precious Boy Who Lived."

Snape stood up straight and remained completely still, glaring at Lupin and baring his teeth.

There.

If that didn't satisfy the werewolf, nothing would.

Lupin's face was sad and he shook his head. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Severus. Is that why you think I object? Because I think... Because I hold you in that regard?" Lupin looked almost hurt at the idea. "Do you truly believe I think that of you?"

Snape would have been more shocked, but after the revelation Lupin had voiced only moments ago it seemed nothing could shock him now.

"Then why the objection? Why the dramatics, coming into my dungeons and pestering me like I'm some errant school boy?"

Lupin sighed deeply and leaned heavily on the chair. The full moon had just passed, Snape recalled, and Lupin tired easily.

"I think you're a very good man, Severus. And I truly believe you are much too hard on yourself," Lupin said softly.

Snape scoffed and lifted an eyebrow.

"You _are_ a good man, Severus. What else could you be, risking your life as a spy in the enemy's camp while protecting Harry as furiously as you do? You're right, Severus; I wasn't there for Harry. Not like you were. If you think that's gone unnoticed then you're mistaken."

Snape frowned in misunderstanding. If Lupin held him in such high regard, why did he object so strongly to his feelings?

Lupin stopped him from opening his mouth with a raised hand. "It's not some misconceived notion that you are some evil man, Severus. You're not. Your past actions haven't tarnished you so greatly that everything you've done since hasn't made up for it. You've done enough good to make up for your past ten times."

Snape stood silently, listening to Lupin ramble on.

"And as for the difference in your ages... You would only have to wait a year for Harry to finish school and that's not very long at all. And well, Harry is very mature for his age and I could perhaps understand why he would want someone with a... past similar to yours. You do have much in common, Severus."

"It nearly sounds like you've come here to play matchmaker, Lupin. Come to a point or remove yourself from my presence!"

"My point, Severus, is that there's really only one reason why I wouldn't approve of a relationship developing- in a year or two- between the two of you." Remus met Snape's eyes as he said, "Frankly, Severus, you have more self-loathing than any other person I've ever known."

Snape blinked.

"You hate yourself, Severus. You could never be good for Harry because you'll never let go of the sins of your past. You have a hard time forgiving others, and a far more difficult time forgiving yourself. You place the weight of the world upon your shoulders, and blame yourself for every act of violence Voldemort has ever committed."

Snape wanted to sneer, to yell at Lupin, to demand he not utter the Dark Lord's name, but he could not. The Potions Master stood completely still, his trademark sarcasm deserting him.

"You could never give Harry the open and trusting relationship he deserves, Severus. Could you ever truly accept his feelings for you? Could you allow yourself to have a healthy, loving relationship with him? I don't think you could, Severus. I think your determination to punish yourself for all your sins, real and imaginary, outweighs everything else- even your love for Harry. If he told you that he loved you, Severus, would you even believe him?"

Snape wanted to issue some scathing retort at the wolf but none would leave his lips. He wanted to yell at the man for interfering in his life, wanted to call him an overly dramatic Gryffindor, wanted to curse his tongue out, wanted to tell him to shut up, wanted to tell him it wasn't true.

In the end Snape could only shake his head.

Lupin smiled very sadly. "I know. And I wish it wasn't true. You deserve happiness, Severus. But you could only ever hurt him if you can't accept what he would so joyfully give you."

Remus bowed his head and started slowly walking toward the door. He opened it and walked out into the hall but paused before closing it. Unable to do anything else, Snape met that piercing brown stare.

"Promise me, Severus. Promise me you won't start something you can't see through. Promise me you won't hurt him."

Snape swallowed down the bile that was threatening to rise up from his throat. He turned to Lupin and said in a rough voice, "It would take an act of God for me to touch him."

Right after Snape said the words, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise on their ends and a soft whisper in his ear.

He ignored it and continued to stare at the closed door long after Lupin had left.

***************************

Harry slowly walked along the corridor to Dumbledore's office. Since the beginning of the summer his relationship with the headmaster had improved, but not by leaps and bounds. They did understand each other slightly better and made more of an effort in their conversations now.

As he turned a corner, Harry couldn't help but think to himself that, while he believed the headmaster was keeping his promise to keep Harry informed, his overall attitude toward Harry had changed little since the end of the last year. Harry was glad that Dumbledore was no longer trying to plan his life for him but he doubted the old man had changed much, if at all.

Harry tried to convince himself that Dumbledore's promise to him was enough for the moment but if he was totally honest he was still angry that the headmaster had planned on keeping Snape in the dark in regard to the Malfoy situation.

He knew the new school year would pose a great threat to Snape with his obsessive student returning, and Harry again resolved to protect Snape at all costs.

He planned to be there, watching Snape's back the way the man had done for him all these years. It was time Harry returned the favor; not to mention he had no idea what he'd do without the man.

He sighed as his thoughts turned to his own trepidation concerning the new school year. He'd be leaving Snape's rooms in favor of returning to his dorm in Gryffindor tower.

The weight of Ron being gone was already laying heavily on him. He'd be with his roommates and Hermione, but... Not Ron. And the idea of sleeping in the bed that had stood next to his friend's for so many years disturbed Harry to no end. It would be hard enough entering the dorm and pretending that nothing had happened, but add to that the fact that he'd have to leave Snape... And the idea of the upcoming term was almost too painful to bear.

He had no desire to leave the man's presence. Harry spent nearly all his waking hours with him, and still it didn't feel like enough. He knew that this was partially due to the change in their routine; they had lessons all day, and their nightly chats were mostly about Occlumency now. By the time Snape considered the day's topics fully reviewed they were usually too tired to keep their eyes open, much less get a conversation going.

He missed the man terribly even though he saw him every day.

Harry didn't understand it; he'd never felt this way about any of his other friends before. Was there something beyond than just fledgling friendship between them?

Harry muttered the password and rode up the staircase to Dumbledore's office, attempting to clear his mind from thoughts of Snape so he could concentrate on whatever the headmaster was about to tell him. He schooled his features into relaxed friendliness and opened the door.

"Good evening, Harry," the headmaster proclaimed, happily motioning for Harry to take his usual seat. "Tea, my boy?"

For once Harry was glad to accept the headmaster's usual offer. "Yes, please."

Dumbledore chuckled. "Yes, I imagine that you're quite glad to have a break from your lessons. I thought you could use the opportunity to stretch your legs, and decided to call you here for a little chat."

Harry frowned. Did Dumbledore think he was doing him a favor by taking him away from Snape and their lessons?

"So tell me, Harry, are you looking forward to the school year?"

Harry barely stifled an eye roll at the question. What was Dumbledore on about?

"Well, sir, to be honest I'm not as enthusiastic as I usually am." Harry left the headmaster to interpret that how he would.

"No, I imagine you wouldn't be," he said, his voice taking on a somber tone. "I will remain available to you, my boy, should you ever need an ear to listen. I'm sure the same goes for Severus. I understand the two of you have become good friends over the summer?"

Harry wanted to smile and say yes, but also did not want to assume his place in the Potions Master's life, especially now that the summer was over.

"I think we've finally been able to get past our differences, and we get along well most of the time," Harry said as he smiled softly.

"Splendid. Remus has told me that you have flourished since your descent into the dungeons. I've always thought that you and Severus would get along splendidly if given the opportunity. I told you to have faith, didn't I, my boy?" Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he leaned back in his chair and Harry thought he looked very proud of himself.

Harry fought a Snape-like scoff. The headmaster could hardly take credit for his friendship with Snape. Not unless he wanted to take responsibility for what had happened in Hogsmeade in June.

Harry simply nodded, eyes absentmindedly running over the headmaster's desk. He froze when he saw the book from the library, the one Malfoy had gotten his hands on, laying there under a pile of parchment.

"The book?" Harry said, unable to stop himself.

Dumbledore glanced in the direction Harry was looking and freed the book from the stack of papers it was trapped under.

"Yes, the book, Harry." Dumbledore seemed much wearier now than he had a moment ago. "I've been reading it, hoping to jog my memory, trying to help Severus in any way I can." The headmaster sighed as he ran a hand over the book. "I'm afraid there are just too many ways to bind a man to ensure that there is no way Draco can hurt poor Severus."

Harry frowned and looked the headmaster in the eye. "He's not going to hurt Snape," Harry said confidently, shaking his head. "I won't let him."

Dumbledore nodded, his gaze assessing. He frowned and looked at Harry as though he was seeing him for the first time. Harry had the distinct feeling he was being studied, and quashed the desire to squirm under the man's scrutiny.

"Yes, Severus has gained quite the protector in you, I can see." Dumbledore sat back in his chair and he regarded Harry silently, an odd gleam in his eye. "You've come to care a great deal for Severus haven't you, Harry?

Harry nodded and the headmaster smiled. He was silent for another moment and then broke his gaze, beginning to fiddle with his paperwork.

"Well, if you're done with your tea..."

"I am, and thank you, headmaster."

"Not at all, Harry. Not at all." Harry stood and turned toward the stairs, but before he could start down them Dumbledore called after him. "Oh, and Harry? Would you be so kind as to tell Severus I'd like a word when he has a moment?"

Harry nodded again and began to make his way towards the dungeons, but not before resting his gaze on that book one last time. He renewed his silent vow to keep Snape safe. He wouldn't lose the Potions Master to anyone, least of all Draco Malfoy.

****************************

Snape grumbled to himself as he trudged his way through the remaining steps that separated the headmaster's office and his quarters. Their meeting, if it could be called that, had been mercifully short. What it had lacked in duration, however, it had more than made up in inanity.

The headmaster was apparently very concerned with how close he and Harry had become. When the headmaster had made the purpose of their meeting clear, Snape had reinforced his mental shields to a degree he never had outside of the Dark Lord's presence. He had feared that Lupin had gone to the headmaster after all.

But his fear had quickly been replaced by incredulity. Dumbledore's suggestion- that Harry would think to risk his life for Snape's sake- was almost more ridiculous than Lupin's claim that the young man was in love with him. Harry's life was worth more than a his a thousand times over, and Snape was sure he knew it.

Snape scoffed at the thought, but then- there were so many things Harry ought to know that he clearly did not, and the boy had a noble streak a mile wide. Perhaps Dumbledore's concerns had merit- he'd discuss them with Harry.

Snape wearily stepped through the door to his quarters and opened his mouth to speak to-

A sleeping Harry.

Snape stopped in his tracks. Over the past few months he had rarely had the opportunity to see the young man in slumber. Harry was usually very good about being awake by the time the Potions Master made his way to the sitting room, he hadn't often had the opportunity to see the object of his desire in such a relaxed state.

He allowed himself to draw closer to the young man sprawled on the sofa and studied Harry as thought he would never lay eyes on him again.

He still looked so fatigued. Though their lessons had improved somewhat as of late, they were still draining on both of them. Snape took in the messy hair and atrocious glasses, the closed eyes and dark lashes falling beautifully over pale skin. Perfect lips simply because they were Harry's; it was of no matter that they were pale and chapped at the moment. Snape knew instinctively that they would flourish under his attentions. His eyes skimmed the broad shoulders and strangely muscled arms that he knew to be firm to the touch but looked thin under the too-large shirt the young man was wearing.

Realizing he had been staring for some time, Snape thought that perhaps he could have this conversation with Harry tomorrow before sending the young man back to Gryffindor Tower. Sighing softly, he found himself dreading sending the young man back. As much as he hated teaching Harry Occlumency, he would rather suffer through a thousand pointless lessons than not see the young Gryffindor at all.

He reached across Harry to pull a blanket down over him when suddenly the younger man moved, stretching and yawning. Green eyes fluttered open and took in the man who was still looming over him.

Harry smiled and opened his arms, looking as if he were about to embrace Snape. The Potions Master immediately drew back and dropped the blanket on Harry, who blinked and sat up.

"Sorry," he muttered. "I didn't mean to fall asleep. I was just... really tired." He covered his mouth as he yawned. "How was your talk with the headmaster? You weren't gone for long, were you?"

Snape shook his head. "No, I was not. And it was less of a talk and more of an inquisition, and equally as painful."

Harry frowned. "Oh, well don't feel too bad." Harry squirmed a moment and then looked up hesitantly through his fringe. "After all, no one expects the Spanish Inquisition."

Snape cocked an eyebrow.

"Their chief weapon is surprise."

This time Snape could not help as his mouth quirked up into a small smile, completely against his will.

"And fear."

"We are not getting into this again, Potter." Snape looked over to Harry and was taken aback at what he saw. Harry was beaming at him and smiling like Christmas had come early. He realized then that he still had a smile on his face. He wiped it off immediately but Harry remained smiling.

"The headmaster is concerned with your welfare," Snape said, a very serious look on his face. Harry frowned. "He fears that, were Draco to attempt to harm me in the year ahead, you would put yourself at risk in some ridiculous attempt to rescue me."

Harry's frown deepened. "Of course I would. If you think I'm going to let that little ferret-"

"No, Potter, I hardly mean for you to stand idly by if you could affect the situation in a manner that does not put you in harm's way. But you must consider your own safety first. You must not go into a situation with nothing but myself in mind. I assure you that if you did, I could only suffer for it."

"How would you suffer?"

Snape sighed and rubbed his temples. "If Draco were to make an attack on my person, I would appreciate having the leisure of worrying primarily about myself and not attempting to keep you out of harm's way. If I know you are safe, I can concentrate on defending myself from him."

Harry seemed to consider this for a few moments, and then nodded. Snape was relieved; he knew it would be impossible to keep Harry from helping him, but he hoped the fear of causing Snape harm would be enough to keep the young man out of danger.

"The headmaster also asked me to inform you that he has made arrangements for all your books and supplies to be taken to Gryffindor Tower in the morning. It seems he forgot to mention it when he spoke to you earlier."

Harry's gaze lowered for a moment, and then he nodded. Surely the young man wouldn't miss his company so much? Taking in the young man's demeanor, Snape wondered why exactly Harry was so distraught. Then again, the prospect of leaving what had been your safe haven for months to return to a place where your best friend was noticeably absent wasn't exactly a comforting one.

Snape said goodnight and allowed Harry to go back to sleep. The Potions Master wanted nothing more than to take the young man into his arms and heal the chapped, pale lips with his own, but he refrained and went into his own bedroom, frustrated and exhausted.

***************************

It was late in the morning of September first. Snape and Harry had forgone their usual defense lessons as neither of them wanted Harry exhausted when the Hogwarts Express rolled in, returning students both friendly and not.

Harry sat on the couch in surprisingly uncomfortable silence, right next to Snape as he had been all summer long.

But now that was over.

Harry wanted nothing more than to tell Snape that he refused to go. That he was going to make himself a little home here in Snape's sofa cushions and live there forever.

"Potter..."

Maybe not.

Snape sighed. "Really, Potter, you are acting as if someone has died."

Harry flinched.

Snape was silent but Harry could feel his eyes on him. "I apologize, that was uncalled for."

Harry just shook his head and tried to smile, still not looking at Snape. He tried to tell him that it was okay, that he said stupid things all the time, but the words didn't come.

Because it _was_ like someone had just died.

The friendship that he treasured above all else was fading into nothingness even as they spoke, but Harry couldn't say a thing. He just sat there, even though he wanted nothing more than the beg Snape not to make him leave.

Snape sighed again.

"Do not act as if it is the end of the world, Potter. I am still under orders to obtain your friendship, and the Dark Lord's spies will be watching me to make certain I am doing his will. I imagine you will be spending time here quite often... If you are amendable, of course."

Harry looked up at Snape and was surprised by the cautious look on his face. The man looked as disoriented as he himself felt.

If Harry had to put a name on the expression, he would say that Snape was nervous. But that was ridiculous. What did Snape have to be nervous about?

"I bought those dragon hide gloves for a reason, Potter. You did not think I would make such an investment only to have you leave a month later?"

Harry gave a soft smile, and felt a small glimmer of hope that maybe he would still have a place here. "No, I suppose not," he croaked out.

Snape smiled back, and for a moment Harry felt like he was soaring.

"I think it's time you went back to Gryffindor Tower. The werewolf is waiting to say goodbye or some such nonsense."

Harry nodded, slowly rose from the sofa, and began the slow march to the door.

It felt like something was dying.

He picked up his trunk, cast a shrinking charm on it, and put it in his pocket. Then he opened the door, Snape right behind him.

_Please ask me not to leave. I know I have to but please just say something, anything. Tell me you feel like something's dying too, tell me you feel as awful as I feel. Tell me you feel anything for me at all._

"Potter," Snape cleared his throat. "It will be several hours before the Welcoming Feast. If you would like, once you return from settling in, you can assist me in restocking the Order's supply of polyjuice potion. I believe you and the werewolf consumed the last of it on your latest adventure."

Harry turned around and looked at Snape's face. There was that same nervous quality, which looked so unnatural on the spy's face. It was almost as if Snape was unsure of Harry's response.

As if he could ever deny anything Snape had to offer.

And quite suddenly and without thought to the consequences of his actions, Harry threw his arms around the man in a firm embrace, closing his eyes as his arms wrapped around the taller, slimmer frame, his forehead landing on Snape's shoulder.

For a moment, it seemed as if Snape would just stand there and suffer Harry's close proximity. He knew better than to feel disappointed and Harry counted it as a victory that Snape hadn't cursed him yet.

But then slowly and with baited breath Harry smiled, and Snape's arms came up and wrapped around him.

And it was like coming home when those long limbs encircled him and the smell of potions fumes and wool and the bath soap that Snape used invaded Harry's nostrils and he inhaled and memorized the feel of him as if he'd never be in the presence of Severus Snape ever again.

Snape's arms grasped him tightly and pulled him even closer, and Harry swore that he'd never been held in that way; as if someone were holding onto him for dear life. And moments later he felt more than heard as Snape leaned his head down, buried his nose in Harry's hair, and inhaled.

Harry lifted his head slightly and smiled against Snape's neck, the slight upturn of his lips pressed against the Potions Master's flesh.

Snape immediately dropped his arms and pulled himself out of Harry's embrace. He took a step back and put a hand on the door. "I will see you after you are settled in, Potter." And with that he promptly closed the door in Harry's face.

Harry took a step back as the cold air of the dungeon surrounded him, the quick transition from Snape's warm embrace to being thrust into the cold halls making a shiver go down his spine. He'd never been on the outside of the Potions Master's doors like this, and he wanted so badly to return. He turned towards Gryffindor tower and began walking, trying to quash the growing feeling of loneliness that was threatening to overtake him.

Even though he knew he'd be back in an hour, Harry realized things would be different upon his return to Snape's lab. He'd be a visitor. He'd no longer be home.

Harry ached in ways he never had before as he wrapped his arms around himself, telling himself it was only the chill of the dungeons he was feeling and wondering why he felt so lost.


	18. Interlude II

Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling and I make no money from this story.

**This is not chapter sixteen****.** If you haven't read chapter sixteen you will be very lost. This is a response from a challenge from my beta, Torina. She simply had to see the last scene of chapter sixteen from Snape's POV and I indulged her.

I've really been putting my heart and soul into this fic and I so hope you're all enjoying it. Please review and let me know. : )

*******************************

It was late in the morning of September first, and Snape was glad he had decided to cancel Harry's lessons for the day. He didn't want Harry to be fatigued when the Express arrived, and truth be told he had no desire to invade the boy's mind on today of all days.

Harry sat next to the Potions Master on the sofa, close enough for the older man to feel the heat coming from his companion's body. Normally he would attempt to lean away from Harry but today he allowed himself to indulge in feeling the younger man against him.

He had no idea if he would ever have this again.

He had known this would happen. When Harry first came down to stay with him. He knew it would tear him apart to see the younger man leave.

Merlin, Snape hated being right all the time. He knew this would be impossible.

The man wanted nothing more than to keep Harry here with him. To physically hold him here, safe from the world, safe from the Dark Lord and any other person who would ever even so much as look at the young man he so loved.

Snape mentally scoffed. He had a difficult time admitting he loved Harry even to himself.

Looking at Harry he realized that was something he could not do. How could he be responsible for removing something so beautiful from the world? Locking away that which he held most dear...

He turned his body to face Harry, the young man's face pale and grief-stricken. He couldn't be lamenting his return to Gryffindor Tower so much, could he?

"Potter..."

If Snape didn't know any better he would say Harry was close to panic.

Snape sighed. "Really, Potter, you are acting as if someone has died."

Harry flinched.

Snape winced as his own cruelty hit him in the face. "I apologize, that was uncalled for."

Harry just shook his head and tried to smile, still not looking at Snape. The Potions Master had to quell the desire to wrap his arms around the young man and never let go; to comfort him, tell him everything was going to be alright.

But everything wasn't going to be alright.

The only person he had ever truly loved was leaving him, and he had no choice but to let him go. Lupin was right about one thing- Snape could never be what Harry needed. Keeping Harry locked in the dungeons would be akin to trapping some beautiful bird in a cage and then denying it basic sustenance. If he were a different person, less tarnished, less sullied, more worthy of someone so beautiful- maybe then he would have asked Harry to stay.

But he wasn't. And such thoughts never helped anyone.

Snape sighed again. He had seen this coming a mile away and allowed it to happen anyway.

He looked again at the sad young man sitting next to him. Occlumency lessons would still continue on into the year... But if Harry was worried about his place in the Potions Master's life...

"Do not act as if it is the end of the world, Potter. I am still under orders to obtain your friendship, and the Dark Lord's spies will be watching me to make certain I am doing his will. I imagine you will be spending time here quite often... If you are amendable, of course."

Snape had no idea why he had just said that. He might as well have gotten down on one knee and said 'I await your return with baited breath.'

Snape looked fearlessly into green eyes that were bright with hesitation and nervousness, and made a decision. Harry would not suffer if he could help it.

"I bought those dragon hide gloves for a reason, Potter. You did not think I would make such an investment only to have you leave a month later?"

Harry gave a soft smile, and Snape felt as though his foray into insanity had been worth it. "No, I suppose not," he croaked out.

Snape couldn't help the small smile that crept onto his face, and he watched in wonder as Harry's face lit up.

"I think it's time you went back to Gryffindor Tower. The werewolf is waiting to say goodbye or some such nonsense."

Harry nodded, slowly rose from the sofa, and began to slowly march toward the door.

It felt as though he'd never see the young man again.

Harry picked up his trunk, cast a shrinking charm on it, and put it in his pocket. Then he opened the door, Snape right behind him.

The cold air of the dungeons hit the Potions Master's face and it was all he could to not pull the young, firm, Quidditch-toned body towards him and keep him from leaving forever.

Did the young man have any idea how close he was to completely undoing the man?

Looking at Harry, still so unsure of himself, Snape knew he did not. Harry had no idea that he lit up the room with his presence or how beautiful he was or exactly what he did to Snape.

The Potions Master had to do something.

"Potter." Snape cleared his throat. "It will be several hours before the Welcoming Feast. If you would like, once you return from settling in, you can assist me in restocking the Order's supply of polyjuice potion. I believe you and the werewolf consumed the last of it on your latest adventure."

Harry turned around and looked at Snape's face. The Potions Master tried his best to offer his usual stoic expression but knew that he was more nervous now than when he was last in the presence of the Dark Lord. It made no sense; it was completely illogical. He was leaving himself completely open for ridicule but it mattered not. He needed to give something to Harry; anything to make him happy again.

And quite suddenly, as though he had slipped into one of his dreams, he found himself accepting the young object of his desire into his arms. He held his arms out at a distance as the young, slim figure seemed to wrap his entire body around the Potions Master and held on for dear life.

Oh, and it was like torture. The sweetest, most agonizing torture to have his arms filled with this beautiful young man, to see the top of his head and feel that firm young body curl all around his and smell... Oh, gods, the smell of him.

He should resist this. He should not be allowing it at all in the first place and he most certainly shouldn't encourage it.

But how much could any man resist when who he wanted most in the entire world was throwing himself into his arms?

And so with no small amount of hesitation, Snape's arms encircled Harry, feeling the smaller body around his, Harry's head tucked perfectly under his chin like he was meant to be there.

It was too much for Snape. Suddenly images of pulling Harry inside, throwing him on his sofa, divesting him of all his clothing, and mapping every inch of his body came to mind and Snape used every ounce of his wayward self control to deny it.

Instead, his arms grasped Harry tighter and he allowed himself to hold him the way he had wanted to for months now. The scent of the young man was in his nostrils. It smelled liked soap and his own sofa and most importantly, a smell that was all and only Harry.

Thinking that he would never hold this beautiful creature in his arms ever again, Snape did the only thing he could and lowered his head onto Harry's hair, allowing himself to capture the beauty of the young man in every way he could.

He inhaled.

_Intoxicating_.

He had managed to control his well-trained cock up until that moment. It would not do to have Harry feel the evidence of his desire and frighten the young man away. But then suddenly, Harry lifted his head slightly and smiled against Snape's neck, the slight upturn of his lips pressed against the Potions Master's flesh.

All the blood in his body seemed to flow downwards and he could not control the physical reaction as his cock rebelled openly and sprang to life, going from docile to hard in an instant.

Snape immediately dropped his arms and pulled himself out of Harry's embrace. He took a step back and put a hand on the door. "I will see you after you are settled in, Potter." And with that he promptly closed the door in Harry's face.

Snape threw his back against the door, fumbled the clasp on his trousers, reached inside his shorts, and pulled out his achingly hard cock. It had been a very long time since he had felt arousal as strong as this and as much as he wanted to luxuriate in the pleasure of holding Harry, he knew that his conscience would return sooner rather than later. And so he made quick work of himself, putting his long fingers to use as he held himself tight, imagining he had taken Harry back into his room, into his bed. Imagined it was the younger man who was gripping his hard, leaking member, running his calloused thumb over the head. Imagined it was Harry's firm grip that was bringing him to completion so quickly he barely managed five strokes before he was coming onto his hand and grunting like he had just run a mile.

Looking down onto his tainted hand his conscience returned, just as he knew it would.

What would Harry think if he knew that the Potions Master was using the idea of him in such a horrid manner? Or if he had known that the innocent, friendly embrace they had just shared had inspired such feelings in Snape?

He cast a cleaning charm and tucked himself back into his pants and thought, no.

He would keep his promise to Lupin if it killed him.

Harry would never find out.


	19. Gladly Beyond Any Experience

Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling. I make no money from this story.

Author's Notes: Thank you to all who have reviewed so far. Each and every one of them is lovely to me and I thank you all for taking the time to tell me you're enjoying my story.

Special thanks to Laurenke1 for a plot beta. Also to Torina Archelda for once again scrubbing the entire thing head to foot for grammar errors and to WhiteCotton for a canon and smut beta.

As always a warm 'hello' goes out to all of the lovely people at the yahoo Snarry discussion group Severus Sighs. If any of you are ever curious about a chapter or would like to discuss it, you can find me there.

Also, I'm very pleased to say that the next chapter is almost completed. All reviews will be forwarded to Torina to encourage her in her betaing.

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"somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond any experience, your eyes have their silence..." e.e. cummings

Walking into the Great Hall at the beginning of the welcoming feast was nothing like Harry had hoped it would be.

It was loud.

It was deafening.

It was everything the past three months hadn't been, and Harry hated it. He had expected to miss the dungeons, to miss Snape and the quiet, but he hadn't known that his desire to see the man again would become so great a longing only hours after leaving the place he had called home all summer.

Standing at the double doors Harry looked up towards the head table, to the man who was never far from his thoughts. Other than McGonagall, all the professors were present. Harry didn't even try to hide the fact that he was trying to get Snape's attention, but the man's gaze was fixed steadily on the first years coming through the side door to be sorted. Harry waited another moment before he took his eyes off the Potions Master. Snape might have had orders from Voldemort to get close to him, but he didn't seem inclined to let anyone else know their relationship had evolved into... Well, something else.

Harry moved to join the Gryffindors already seated at their table and was surprised at what he saw. He had thought that the table would be quiet, sullen; still mourning the member that had been lost to them not three months ago.

But aside from Hermione everyone seemed to be catching up and laughing; talking about how great their summers had been. Even Ginny was laughing with Dean Thomas, who had his arm slung around the youngest Weasley's shoulder. Harry looked over and met her eyes, watching as they dimmed at bit. She smiled at him sadly and then was distracted by something Dean was saying. He watched her interaction with the other Gryffindors for a moment, then turned away.

Hermione was sitting in her usual spot, and there were two seats left open near her; his own and what should have been Ron's. Harry felt a knot grow in his chest and attempted to smother it. He'd had the summer, and all the time that he had needed. He closed his eyes for just a moment, attempting to draw strength from the memories of Snape and the summer that had ended just hours ago.

He looked to the Potions Master again only to find the man looking right back at him.

Green eyes met black and for a moment everything was quiet. All the sound from the hall surrounding him was drowned out as he took in the words unspoken and silent comfort that came from the momentarily meeting of man's eyes with his own.

Snape nodded at him and the moment was broken as the dark gaze moved away from Harry and back towards the nervous first years.

Harry sighed.

He drew up all his strength, put on the bravest face he had, and sat down next to Hermione, who until that moment had been sitting quietly.

After a moment she noticed his presence and turned her head, and he was able to see the sadness in her face. There were dark circles under her eyes, and she looked thinner than when he had seen her last. There was an overall aura of depression surrounding her.

"Hi, Harry," she said softly, smiling the saddest smile Harry had ever seen.

Harry pulled her into a one-armed hug. "Hi," was all he could say.

The table suddenly got quieter, and Harry realized that the other Gryffindors were staring at the two of them. Harry gave them a glare worthy of the head of Slytherin himself and turned back to Hermione.

She looked as if she were about to burst into tears, and then suddenly the headmaster called the hall to order and the first year students were brought up to be sorted.

The sorting hat's song was similar to what it had been in Harry's fifth year; telling the school to stick together and that it would be necessary to put away old rivalries in the coming days.

Harry turned his head towards the Slytherin table, seeing the blond hair of Draco Malfoy and thought there was little chance of that.

The Slytherin had the attention of his entire table, paying no mind to the sorting or to the few students that had joined them after being sorted. He was regaling his year-mates with some story Harry couldn't hear, and Harry fought to rein in his disgust. He could imagine how Draco had spent his summer and shuddered both in disgust at the thought of being so near Voldemort for months on end and in fear at what the little ferret was plotting for Snape.

Pansy Parkinson, who was seated facing Harry, looked up and caught his eyes, and then leaned over the table to whisper something to Draco. Draco, who turned around slowly, saw Harry still staring at him. Harry nodded in greeting but Draco merely smirked and turned back, no doubt continuing whatever incredibly interesting story Harry had interrupted.

Harry's gaze turned back to the Gryffindor table and Hermione's curious stare.

"Later," Harry said quietly, and Hermione nodded and turned towards the beef Wellington that now lay on a large platter in front of them.

************************

It was nearly midnight before the rest of the Gryffindors went up to their dorms. Harry and Hermione had acquired a sofa near the fire and were sitting quietly, waiting for the moment they could be alone.

A sixth year girl finally got out of her chair, gave them a long look, and then turned to go up the stairs that led to the girl's dorms.

Harry finally heard a door close, and he turned to Hermione tentatively, waiting for something to happen.

He didn't have to wait long.

"Oh, Harry," she sobbed, as she promptly burst into tears. Harry opened his arms and took her in, his face immediately buried in thick, bushy hair.

"I'm sorry... I just miss him so much. It's all I can ever think about..." Hermione trailed off as she began to sob uncontrollably on Harry's shoulder.

Harry just sat there, extremely glad that his friend wasn't looking at him because, if she were she'd see the shocked look on his face.

He'd known that Hermione would be sad but he hadn't thought it would be this bad. Had she not cried once since they had left the Burrow after Ron's funeral?

He just sat there, feeling awkward and patting her hair as she sobbed into his shoulder.

The strangest thing, Harry thought, was that all he could think of in that moment was Snape. He thought about the conversation that they'd had on his birthday and remembered what Snape had told him. That it was normal for Hermione to be feeling this way and that he shouldn't feel guilty about it.

He held Hermione tighter as he thought of the Potions Master. He wondered where he was exactly and what was he doing. Would he be getting into bed by now or was he staying up, working on the polyjuice potion they had been brewing earlier in the day?

Harry closed his eyes and leaned his head onto Hermione's and thought of the man, sitting alone in his dungeon quarters and probably relaxing for the first time in months, without Harry.

He shuddered.

Hermione pulled back.

Her eyes were red and puffy and tears were still trickling down her cheeks. "Are you alright?" she asked.

Harry nodded and patted her hair again. "Yeah, I'm fine." He smiled at her to further the thought.

She wiped her eyes hastily and looked up at Harry. "Oh, God, Harry. I'm so sorry."

Harry frowned, confused. "What? Why are you sorry?"

"I'm just going on and on. I haven't spoken to you in months and now the first thing I do is cry all over you. Oh, look at what I did to your shirt..." She trailed off and cast a drying spell where she had wept onto him.

Harry smiled a genuine smile at her and said, "Really, Hermione, it's okay." The smile faded from his face as he realized that he had to openly address what had happened, for his own sanity if not Hermione's. "I know you're still hurting. It's not like we had a chance to talk about this. I mean, it just happened and then you were gone-"

She burst into tears again.

Harry backtracked, horrified. "I mean, I loved him too, just... Not the way you did. It's understandable that you'd still be sad." Harry echoed the words that Snape had spoken to him a month ago, hoping Hermione would know that he at least understood that she was suffering, if not the suffering itself.

Hermione's crying slowed so that she could speak. "No, I guess you didn't love him the way I did."

They were quiet for a moment, the two of them simply staring into the fire, neither talking but both very aware of the presence of the other. Harry was glad for the quiet, even if it only lasted a moment. In the silence, his mind drifted and he couldn't help but think that he would rather it was Snape sitting by his side. He thought it very unfair to his friend sitting next to him, but he couldn't help nervously playing with his hands, missing the Potions Master's own pale, warm ones.

His mind was drifting, replaying a dozen scenes from the summer when suddenly he realized Hermione was sniffling and probably had been for some time.

Looking down, he took in the somber expression on his friend's face, the way her hands were shaking slightly and how she possessed the overall air of someone trying very hard not to cry.

Harry quickly realized that if Hermione wasn't going to talk about everything that was bothering her on her own, he was going to have to coax it out of her.

"Talk to me," he said, his voice soft. She gave him a puzzled look and he smiled sadly at her. "Because you haven't, you know. At least not to me." Harry was silent for a moment, not wanting to push his friend. When she kept quietly sniffling, he prodded, "Wouldn't you like to talk about it?"

Hermione paused and then nodded. "My parents spent the summer trying to take my mind off of it. As if that were even possible. We traveled all over western Europe and I don't think I enjoyed one minute of it. All I could think of was him."

Harry remained silent as Hermione mentally prepared herself for whatever she needed to say.

She smiled sadly. "I don't know the exact moment I fell in love with Ron. It was like one day I just realized that I was happier when I was with him than when I wasn't. And it didn't matter if we were arguing or studying or doing absolutely nothing. Whatever I did, I wanted to be with him when I did it."

She looked over at Harry and he smiled at her, bidding her to continue.

"It was... Everything. If I could have, I'd have spent my every waking moment with him."

Harry blinked and felt a curious feeling beginning in the pit of his stomach, his heart began to speed up at Hermione's words. He tried to concentrate on what his friend was saying but his thoughts had turned to dark eyes and lank hair, all draped in black.

He shook himself when he noticed Hermione looking at him thoughtfully. He tried to think of something comforting to say. "He felt the same way, you know."

Hermione nodded and smiled. She didn't seem to have noticed that Harry had drifted off. "Oh, I know. It went unspoken but... We both knew."

Harry could feel a heat beginning to spread throughout his body as scenes from the past few months replayed in his head. Quiet moments by the fire, holding Snape's hand in his, Snape's hands running through his hair.

"He would always find some excuse to touch me, or I him." Her eyes opened wide and she sputtered. "Not like that! I mean, he would find a way to hold my hand or he'd put his hand on my back as we walked down a hall or something."

Harry was barely listening to Hermione. All he could think of were all the times he had sought out Snape's touch, grazed his hand over his or put a hand on his back. He didn't really understand why he liked doing it, just that he loved touching the Potions Master and never missed an opportunity to do so.

He loved touching his hands; they were so elegant and strong and beautiful. Exactly like the man himself.

Harry exhaled deeply and ran his own hand through his hair. Did he feel for Snape what Ron had felt for Hermione? How could that be? Harry had never been attracted to a man in his life.

But then why had he loved touching Snape? He looked over to Hermione, who was leaning back on the sofa, looking up at the ceiling and saying words that Harry was incapable of hearing.

He closed his eyes and thought of the Potions Master. He tried to picture the man's body but all he could really see were his hands and his face. The rest of him was always covered.

So he thought of Snape's hands. His incredibly beautiful, strong, elegant, stained hands.

Hermione was still addressing the ceiling so Harry allowed his mind to wander. His thoughts flitted over the long, pale, potion-stained digits and Harry could feel himself grow warm. He thought of the time Snape had run his thumb over Harry's lips and ran his fingers through his hair; how warm his touch had been, how wonderful it had felt to be touched by the man.

And oh, gods, he thought of the embrace they shared just a few hours ago. Could he call that an embrace? Calling it a hug just didn't seem right somehow. A hug was what he had just given Hermione. He gave Mrs. Weasley hugs and had hugged Remus goodbye just a few hours ago.

Snape, on the other hand, had tried to crawl inside him. He closed his eyes and remembered the feeling; the way Snape had grabbed him and held him close. The way he had been brought toward the firm body, the smell of the man; how he had felt when he had smiled into the other man's neck.

Harry's fingers absentmindedly traced his lips as he thought of the man's neck. It was long and slender, just like his hands. Was the Potions Master's entire body like that? Was he warm and smooth all over? Would he let Harry touch him?

"Harry?"

Harry opened his eyes and snapped his head back towards Hermione, who was looking at him with a very concerned look on her face. "I haven't upset you, have I?"

Harry frowned and shook his head. "No, of course not. You were saying?"

Hermione smiled. "Oh, enough of that... At least for today. Do you have anything you'd like to talk about?"

Harry no longer had any idea how to answer that question. His mind was off in the dungeons as he looked at Hermione and said, "No."

*************************

Harry ascended the stairs to the seventh year boy's dorm with just one thought on his mind- Snape.

Not only was his mind now filled with trace images of Snape's body, he was also missing the man something awful. This was the longest they had been separated for months. He felt the absence of the other man like he would that of his right arm.

Harry approached the door and resigned himself to sleeping in his own bed tonight, thinking longingly of the comfortable sofa that always smelled like the Potions Master.

Suddenly something occurred to him, and he lifted his shirt sleeve to his nose. He smiled as he realized it still smelled of the dungeons; still smelled of potions ingredients and Snape's musty office and the soap the man used.

He allowed that to comfort him and took a deep breath, walking through the door to the room and moved towards his bed...

Only to find that it had been moved.

There were now only four beds in the room and his roommates were already asleep, their curtains drawn.

Though the room was still the same size there really wasn't too much extra space; still, it felt to Harry as though there were a gaping hole in the middle of it.

He took off his shoes, shirt, and trousers and got into bed, pulling the curtains shut tight and ignoring the pain the change in the room brought.

Harry nestled down into his pillow, his mind wandering over a dozen memories of the summer- all of Snape- and eventually ending on that parting embrace they had shared earlier. He ran his fingers over his lips one more time, ignoring the heat that was threatening to build. He rolled over and smashed his face against the pillow, desperately wishing it smelled like the dungeons.

***************

For the past two weeks Harry had taken up a hobby he liked to call Snape-watching. Activities involved in Snape-watching included monitoring Snape during all meals in the Great Hall, routinely asking various house elves to make sure that no one slipped any potions in the Potions Master's food, and making sure that Draco Malfoy was never within ten feet of the man.

Even though Snape had told him in no uncertain terms that he was welcome in the dungeons, between quidditch practice, taking care of Hermione, studying for his classes, and Snape's own grading and detentions he was still only able to see the man twice a week- for their continuing Occlumency and Defense lessons.

And he was hardly counting those. As much as he tried to linger before and after Snape was all business, still trying to hammer the theory into Harry in some hope that he would eventually understand. The Potions Master used every moment of the evening attempting to teach Harry, even going so far as to write a pass when he had once stayed after curfew. Though Harry continued to loathe Occlumency, he enjoyed the other man's presence too much to ever complain.

He rubbed his temples, feeling a small headache coming on. Harry was sure it would have him wincing in his chair during their lessons tonight.

Harry walked from the greenhouses to Potions class, trying to ignore how closely Hermione was walking next to him these days and thinking of the Potions Master.

Ever since his conversation with his friend two weeks ago, Harry had been desperate to find just a little time alone with Snape. He had no idea what he was feeling for the man.

Harry really didn't think he was gay. He'd never been attracted to a man before, and in the past two weeks since, he'd taken a good look at who most girls said were the most handsome guys in his class.

No, Harry didn't think he was gay, and he was more than a little embarrassed at having forced himself to take a really good look at Justin Finch-Fletchley's arse.

But then what exactly did he feel for the Potions Master? Intense friendship? Did people sometimes just really love holding their friends? Harry liked the feel of Hermione in his arms but that was for her sake. She was soft and she smelled nice, and it was no burden to give his friend any amount of comfort. But it never invoked any of the emotions that holding Snape had.

Harry jerked as he felt Hermione's hand bumping against his. He honestly didn't mind touching her at all, but he couldn't help think of what Remus had said in June after Ron's funeral. That his friendship with Hermione might be odd now that it was just the two of them. He was glad that Remus had thought to talk to him about it; that he'd gotten his feelings for his friend out in the open. He really didn't want there to be any confusion.

But the way Hermione kept bumping into him made him think that her understanding of her own feelings wasn't as clear.

He smiled at her and stepped away, giving himself some more space.

No, whatever he felt for the Potions Master, it wasn't the same thing he felt for Hermione. He didn't crave his friend's touch the way he did Snape's.

When he had been held by Snape it had felt like he was home; like he was holding the most perfect thing and if he spent his life in those arms that would have been fine with him.

Harry shook his head for perhaps the sixth time just that afternoon and continued toward the dungeons.

He forced himself to focus and he pushed all thoughts of Hermione and his odd feelings for Snape to the back of his mind.

Out of all the places in the entire school, Harry felt that Snape was at the most risk in Potions class. Although Snape monitored every student carefully, Harry didn't think it was safe for him to teach a class with Draco Malfoy in it. It would be far too easy for some 'accident' to happen. Harry had to walk a fine line; listening to Snape's lesson, tending his potion, all while watching Malfoy like a hawk.

If Hermione had noticed that Harry was especially attentive in potions now she hadn't said anything. Maybe she thought it was out of a newfound respect for Snape after all the help he had given Harry over the summer. They turned the last corner and walked the remaining steps to Snape's classroom.

The man was standing by the door, his head covering the small window cut into the top of it, arms crossed and expression schooled. "Potter," he nodded in greeting.

Harry was immensely glad that they didn't have to pretend to have some gross animosity between them any longer. In one of the few, short conversations they had been able to have after their Occlumency lessons, Snape assured Harry that the children of the Death Eaters were still watching him and needed to be sure of Harry's acceptance of Snape's friendship.

"Professor," Harry nodded in answer. Hermione smiled at Snape as she passed and Harry thought it was very kind of him not to scowl openly at her.

Harry turned to walk towards the desk they shared and met Malfoy's eyes on the way. Gray eyes seemed to study him for a moment before they turned to the book laying open on his desk. Harry moved to sit down and turned his attention to the board. He was trying very hard to be outwardly friendly to the little ferret as Snape had advised in the beginning of the summer. _'Become very good at deception' _Snape had said. Harry was trying his hardest but it was growing increasingly difficult.

"Today we will be preparing blood-replenishing potions to stock the infirmary. Any potion that does not meet my standards will receive a failing grade. You will find the instructions on page two hundred and thirty seven of your books. You may begin."

Harry let Hermione begin reading the notes in the book while he went to get the required ingredients.

Malfoy stood up at the same time and Harry walked in-step with the Slytherin, eyes on him the entire time. Harry glanced to his left and met Snape's hardened glare, but Harry ignored it. He knew he was running the risk of losing the tentative truce between Malfoy and himself, but he didn't care. Harry ran his fingers down the wand in his pocket with one hand while the other reached out to grab what he needed for his potion.

Just as Harry was about to turn back, Malfoy turned towards Snape and began to walk towards his desk.

"Problem, Mr. Malfoy?" the Potions Master asked politely.

Harry tensed and gripped the wand in his pocket tighter. He knew what he looked like, and he didn't give a damn if Snape thought he was being reckless. Malfoy had something horrible planned for Snape and there was no way Harry was going to let him go through with it.

"Potter? Do you require directions back to your seat?"

Harry shook his head, frustrated, and went back to his desk. He lowered his head but kept his eyes on Malfoy, who had leaned over Snape's desk to murmur something Harry couldn't hear.

Snape shook his head at whatever Malfoy had said and pointed back to the younger Slytherin's desk, clearly dismissing him.

Harry kept a keen eye on Malfoy for the entire class, and Hermione was distraught when Snape declared their potion to be "barely passable" at the end of the period.

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"You cannot use the same shield each time you are attacked. There are far too many ways for your enemy to use their knowledge of your defenses to their advantage; ways to chip at a shield, and darker curses that will render it useless over time." Snape paced the floor of his office in front of Harry, who was listening intently to what the Potions Master was saying. "This time use the modified Selinger shield. You have had more problems with that charm in particular."

"I've gotten better," Harry said as he moved his body into position.

Snape scoffed, determined to knock Harry down a few notches. His performance in defense was far more than acceptable but that did not mean he had the right to be cocky.

"_Better_ has nothing to do with it, Potter. It must be perfect. _Furnunculus_."

Harry erected the requested shield and the curse dissipated harmlessly. He looked up and smiled at Snape.

The Potions Master turned away. "Adequate. We will practice this more during your next lesson. Rest for five minutes before we begin with Occlumency."

Harry winced and lowered his head. He fidgeted and rubbed at some nonexistent dirt on the floor with the toe of his shoe.

Snape took in Harry's reluctant stance and could not help but issue a mental sigh. He knew that the Occlumency lessons were bordering on pointless but he could not give up on Harry, no matter how much the young man wanted him to. Giving up on Occlumency meant giving up on Harry's chances for survival, and that was something Snape could not do. Occlumency was far too important for him to take lightly. "Only two weeks into the year and already so frustrated, Potter?"

Harry looked up, his green eyes full of hesitation. He opened his mouth but then snapped it shut, averting his eyes and looking around the room nervously. What did the young man have to be so fearful of? "No, it's not that, just... Um..."

Snape crossed his arms and cocked an eyebrow, waiting for whatever excuse Harry would give as to why he did not want to have his lesson tonight.

"I... um..."

"Spit it out, Potter."

"Could we just... talk?"

The eyebrow inched higher.

"I've, um..."

"You've, um..." Snape repeated, his tone growing irritated.

"I miss talking to you," Harry said, his eyes meeting Snape's with confidence that he obviously did not feel.

Snape felt his heart beat quicker at the object of his affection's confession but he said nothing. Not wanting there to be a misunderstanding, he allowed Harry to prattle on.

"I... Well, it's not that I have no one to talk to but... I miss talking to _you_." His green eyes were wide and his gaze seemed to bore into Snape. "Do you ever miss talking to me? The way it was this summer?" he said, his voice sounding far too desperate for the Potions Master's liking.

Harry looked as though it had taken every ounce of courage he possessed to confess what he just had. As much as Snape wanted to deny him, wanted to discourage any kind of affection the young man might have held for him, he could not leave him looking so forlorn. Not when he was the one Harry missed, as unbelievable as that seemed.

"Your presence..." Snape stopped himself. As much as he wanted to comfort Harry he did not wish to reveal too much, and he knew that the rigid control he kept of himself tended to slip when Harry was present. "You resided in my quarters for nearly three months, Potter. Of course your absence has been noticed."

The smile Harry gave him was blinding.

"So do you think we could just- for a little while- talk?"

Snape wanted to say no, say that Occlumency was too important. And it was. Far more important than any desire either of them may feel simply to be with the other.

No, Snape thought. It would not do to allow Harry to become too attached to him. Regardless of Lupin's ridiculous conclusions, Snape knew that Harry would never return his affections. And that was the way it should be.

He looked into green eyes, ready to deny him. But the look Harry was gracing him with was so hopeful, yet obviously fearful of being denied.

And it seemed that once again, Snape could deny Harry nothing.

"As you wish," spilled from his mouth before he had even fully decided on how to answer.

Harry smiled at him and it was as though the sun had risen in the dungeons.

Snape hesitantly pulled the chair away from his desk to sit in front of Harry, giving himself a few feet of distance.

Harry immediately sat down, looking as if Christmas had come early. The happiness in his expression was contagious, and the Potions Master was tempted to smile himself.

He fought that desire and struggled to begin a conversation. As often as they had conversed during the summer, it had always happened naturally; as such things usually do when two people live together. This was the first time they had actually sat down for the purpose of conversing. Snape realized his social skills were likely lacking, so he began the only way he knew.

"How is the school year coming along for you, Potter?"

Harry's smiled faded somewhat, but did not leave completely. "About what I expected, I guess. Hermione-" Harry cut himself off.

Snape grimaced, perturbed by what Harry had just said. Had the young man made this request simply to speak about Granger? Well, regardless of why Harry had requested this discussion, it was clear by the look on his face that her problems were troubling him.

"Continue. What has Miss Granger done that has affected you so?"

Harry grimaced and ran a hand through his hair, a tale-tell sign his apprehension. What did Harry have to be nervous about?

"She's just sad, still. You know-"

"Yes, but I believe we have already had this discussion."

Harry played with the hem of his robe with his fingers and nodded. He did not look up at Snape but sighed, beginning a thorough examination of a stray thread. "Oh, yeah. I'm alright, I think." Harry looked down at his hands and released the fabric now resting in his lap. "I mean, it was still really horrible; sitting down in the Great Hall with just Hermione, going up to my dorm to find a bed missing, going to classes without Ron. But I mean, I'm alright. I'm not, you know, going mental or anything."

Snape leaned back and gave an internal sigh of relief. At least Harry wasn't suffering unduly from Weasley's death.

"Then what about her has you so disturbed?"

Harry looked around the room, his eyes shifting, looking even more unsure of himself than he had before.

"She's been really-" Harry buried his face in his hands and spoke so quietly through his fingers that Snape had to strain himself to hear. "God, no matter how I say this it's going to sound awful."

In that moment, Snape wanted nothing more than to take Harry's face out of his hands and ask him what had him so troubled. He wanted to grab Harry's hands and hold them still, to not allow the object of his affections to suffer in his presence- he could not stand to see Harry suffer! But in the end all he could do was encourage the young man to speak.

"Talking about it will undoubtedly help, Potter," the Potions Master said at last.

Harry looked up through the fringe of his hair and nodded. "I know. It's not that I mind it so much it's just... She's been really... clingy lately."

Snape shifted in his chair. Clingy? What did that translate to exactly?

"She never leaves my side. We've always been close. But with Ron gone... I don't know. It's almost like Remus was right."

Snape stiffened at the mention of the werewolf. Lupin had been right about what? "I'm afraid you will have to speak in a language I understand. What was Lupin right about?"

Harry looked surprised, as though he had expected Snape to know instinctively what he was speaking of. "Oh, I never told you about that, did I?"

"Told me about what, Potter?" Snape growled.

Harry's neck turned red and he shifted in his seat. "He told me that I needed to be very sure of my feelings for Hermione. That it would be strange now that it was just the two of us, what with Ron being gone."

Snape lifted an eyebrow, not liking where this conversation was going. "And what prompted Lupin to give such advice?"

The redness spread from Harry's neck to his face and he averted his eyes. "Hermione... um... After Ron's funeral... She, um, kissed me."

Rage that Snape had never felt before overtook his entire being and he struggled not to allow it to take over his expression. He forced himself to sit still and not react to what Harry had just said.

Granger had kissed Harry? Had kissed _his_ Harry? Had dared to touch what Snape-

Snape brought a hand to his temple in an attempt to squash down the thoughts that were coming to his mind. He had no claim over Harry, none at all. What right did he have to be angry at another's advances towards him?

He stilled himself and breathed calmly, attempting to force his anger out. It would not do to allow Harry to see him in such a state. He could never know-

"It was like kissing my sister."

Snape's head snapped up involuntarily at the beyond wonderful words that had just come from Harry's mouth. But while he couldn't help but breathe a small sigh of relief, he also realized that this was a short reprieve. Harry was a good and very handsome young man and it would only be a matter of time before some irritating chit of a girl took him away from the Potions Master.

"You did not enjoy her attentions?" he asked innocently, his voice betraying none of the rage he had felt only a moment ago.

Harry looked in Snape's direction for the first time since he had buried his head in his hands. "No, it's not that. It was just... strange. She hasn't tried anything like that since. It's not like I'm repulsed by her... It's just- She was my best friend's girl. And I really don't see her that way." Harry hung his head low and took his eyes off Snape, apprehension apparent in his voice. "Haven't really felt that way about any girl."

Snape lifted an eyebrow. An unwelcome feeling of hope began to grow in Snape's chest. Although he quickly quashed it down, he could not keep himself from asking, "Could it be that you simply do not prefer women in general?"

There was far too much hope in his voice, Snape belatedly realized. Why had he even asked that? Even if Harry did deign the question appropriate enough to answer, it was beyond improper and danced far too close to topics that Snape had forbidden himself to broach.

Harry frowned and looked directly into Snape's eyes. His face grew impossibly redder and he shook his head. "I, um... Thought about that but... I don't really think I like guys in general. I mean, I've never tried it or anything but... The idea of just any guy doesn't appeal to me."

Snape nodded and felt his heart sink low in his chest.

_There_, he thought. _That was all you needed to know that Harry could never be yours. _ It was not as though he had ever truly entertained the possibility, but knowing that nothing would ever occur between them brought a sense of hopelessness that even he had never known.

He struggled to keep his face blank as he told himself that he should not be so surprised. As if life would ever be so kind.

A thousand cutting remarks came to the forefront of his mind. He hated that the young man had this kind of power over him. He had lived his entire life alone and he had been content until Harry had come and muddled everything up. Three months in his dungeons and Harry had completely undone Snape, just as he had known he would. He did not wish to hurt Harry but found he could not keep himself from lashing out.

"Your godfather would be eternally glad to hear you say that, Potter."

Harry's head snapped up. He looked horrified. "Sirius hated gay people?"

The Potions Master scoffed. "Well, he certainly hated me."

Snape's eyes widened.

Time stopped.

_Oh, gods. _

Why had he said that? What had possessed him to say such a thing? To reveal that fact about himself to Harry, who would no doubt be disturbed by such a revelation?

_My kingdom for a time turner_, Snape thought, attempting to overcome the cowardice that had him looking anywhere but Harry.

He refused to add cowardice to his many faults, however, and forced himself to meet Harry's gaze-

Only to find green eyes wide open in shock. Harry's expression was almost comical.

"Oh..." Harry said, eyes unblinking. "Um... I'm sorry. I didn't know he-"

Snape closed his eyes for just a moment, unwilling to watch as his tentative friendship with the young man he so loved slipped away for but the slip of the tongue.

It became all too apparent that Snape no longer had any control over himself where Harry was concerned. Not where it counted, at least.

Harry fidgeted in his chair and cast his eyes to the floor. "I'm sorry he acted that way towards you. Did he really hate gay people?"

A sarcastic remark was on Snape's lip but he forced it back. Not wanting to drive Harry away further, Snape told him the truth. "No, I do not believe he did. Hatred of homosexuals is a long-standing tradition among purebloods but he was very friendly with the few gay members of the other houses. I believe my orientation was simply another avenue for him to belittle me. And do not apologize. It was a long time ago."

Harry shook his head, looking very upset. Snape watched as the young man fidgeted awkwardly in his chair.

He had done this. Harry had come to him to talk, seeking solace and comfort and Snape had shattered that. He had made the young man uncomfortable in a place that had once been a refuge for him.

"Um... Would you mind if I used your bathroom for a moment? Please?"

Snape looked over at the young man who so obviously needed an escape, and gave it to him. He waved his hand towards the door that led to his quarters and gave him leave to do as he wished.

The door closed quietly and Snape took a deep breath, steadying himself for what was to come and his necessary course of action.

****************

Harry quietly closed the door that connected Snape's office to his quarters before sprinting toward the man's bedroom, ignoring how good it would feel to simply luxuriate in the place that held several good memories, flying past the bed, and went flying into the bathroom.

He slammed the door behind him and put his back against it, trying to calm himself and failing.

_Snape is gay._

Harry was panting, though not from his recent excursions. No, something far different was taking hold of him now. Something he hadn't felt in a long time and, if he was being honest with himself, had never felt as strongly as he was feeling it now.

Arousal.

Harry ran a hand over the front of his jeans and felt his cock stir at what he had just discovered.

_Snape is gay._

Just the thought of it, said in the Potions Master's voice, made his cock throb even harder and Harry shifted himself with his hand. He held himself and tried to get his head about him.

He was sure he had never been this hard in his life. Harry tried to clear his mind; tried to understand what was happening.

It wasn't as if he hadn't been aroused before. He was a healthy seventeen year old and felt arousal the way any seventeen year old would. But he had to admit, at least to himself, that the deep depression he had fallen into over the past few years had taken its toll on his body.

It wasn't as though he had never masturbated, felt frustration, or attained an embarrassing erection in class. No, he was fairly sure he was totally normal when it came to bodily functions. But any bodily functions he'd had over the past few years had simply been reminders that while he might have been sick in his heart, he wasn't sick in his body.

But that's all it had been. His guilt over Cedric's and then Sirius' deaths had put a damper on his libido and while Harry's body functioned normally, he'd never felt something like this before.

Desire.

But why was he reacting this way? So Snape was gay? What did that mean for Harry? It wasn't as if the man was offering himself to him.

But what if he did?

_Snape is gay._

Would he let Harry touch him? Was the rest of his body as elegant and long and slender as his hands and his neck and...

Harry's cock throbbed harder and he found himself unbuttoning his pants. He reached inside his boxers and took himself in hand.

What was the rest of Snape's body like? Would it be smooth like his hands were or-

Harry's thoughts broke off as he belatedly realized he was stroking himself in the Potions Master's bathroom, thinking about what Snape looked like with his clothes off.

_Oh, gods._

Harry had no idea what was happening to him. How could he be so aroused by Snape's admission if he wasn't gay himself? Was it only the Potions Master that aroused him so?

Harry's cock twitched in his hands and answered for him.

He looked down, confronting the evidence of his feelings for Snape. His cock looked large and red in his hand. The foreskin was pulled back to reveal the weeping head; a tear-drop of pre-come posed to drip onto his fingers. He rubbed his thumb over it and pulled back the foreskin, stifling a groan as he felt arousal flow through his body to settle in his groin. So unexpected and new was the strength of his reaction that awe rose and surged in a tide equal to the physical sensations.

_Oh, Merlin, yes._

_Wait._

No, Harry thought. This is wrong. So wrong.

Harry tried to will himself to calm down. He looked longingly at the bath, wondering if a cold shower would help. But no, a shower would take too long and Snape would know he had used it and wonder why.

Harry's hand began to move over his throbbing erection even as his mind screamed repeatedly, _'I will not masturbate in Snape's bathroom. I will not masturbate in Snape's bathroom.'_

Except he was. His hand was moving faster over his aching cock as he took a deep breath through his nose, allowing the smell of the Potions Master that lingered in the room to invade his senses. He thought of dark hair and dark eyes and pale, flawless skin as he stroked his erection.

Suddenly images from his time in the dungeons invaded his mind. He recalled the way he had knelt in front of Snape and how the Potions Master had caressed his hair, touching him in ways he had never been touched before. He thought of the man's lips and his hands and the way the long potion-stained digits would tap his mouth-

His knees nearly buckled as he came, almost painfully, into his hand. He bit his lip to maintain his silence and continued to milk his deflating cock.

Panting, he allowed himself to slide to the floor, pants around his thighs, hand full of his own semen.

What in Merlin's name was happening?

*****************************

Harry quickly washed himself off and straightened his clothes, making sure Snape's bathroom was as clean as it had been when Harry had entered it. He had to put off thinking of what he had just done until he had talked to Snape and had their lesson. The thought of returning to the man's office as though nothing monumental had just occurred seemed impossible, but Harry knew he had to do it.

He opened the door and entered Snape's office only to find it empty.

Confused, he wandered through the next door to the Potions Master's private lab and then through the next, leading into the potions classroom.

There he found Snape bent over a cauldron, not seeming to notice that Harry had just walked through the door.

"Um... Snape?" Harry felt beyond awkward as he stood there in the Potions Master's presence, still trying to forget that he had just been wanking in the man's bathroom.

"Your lessons are over for the day, Potter," Snape said in an icy voice.

Harry frowned and moved so that he was facing the Potions Master from the other side of his cauldron.

"What? But why? I thought we were going to-"

"Then you thought wrong. I have a potion to see to and it would be foolish to attempt an Occlumency lesson when you have no desire to do so."

Harry took a step back in confusion, taking in the man that had affected him so strongly.

Snape wasn't meeting his eyes. Although his face was bent over his cauldron, his back was as stiff as a board and his expression was cold. What had changed in the five minutes Harry had been gone?

"Um... Are you alright?"

Snape didn't look up to face him. "I am fine, Potter. Do not trouble yourself over your reaction to such an... unpleasant revelation. After spending so many years among purebloods I assure you I am used to it."

Harry frowned, confused. It was only after he replayed the last few minutes in his head that he realized what Snape was talking about. His eyes opened wide in shock as he realized what the Potions Master had thought had just happened.

"Wait, no. It wasn't like that at all-"

Snape looked up at him then. His eyes were cold and unfeeling, and he was looking at Harry with loathing. It was even worse than before this summer, worse than before he had gotten to know the man.

He was looking at Harry like he truly hated him. Not the Boy Who Lived, not James Potter's son- him. Harry.

"Spare me your false platitudes, Potter. I have no time for them and I assure you I have no interest in listening to you. I am the one who was at fault for assuming your muggle upbringing had spared you from pureblood prejudices. I see now that I was wrong. Now leave."

"But Snape, I-"

Snape moved quickly around the table and took Harry by the collar of his shirt. "I said I do not wish to hear it." He waved his wand and opened the door to the classroom, the little window shuddering with the force of its impact with the outside wall.

He forcefully escorted Harry out of the room, but Harry stuck his foot in the door before the Potions Master could close it.

"No, wait. Please, Snape. It wasn't like that. I-"

Snape pointed his wand at Harry and cast a wordless spell that pushed Harry out into the hallway, his back hitting the wall with a thud.

Snape then closed the door, but not before Harry stole one last glance at the man. There was pain in those dark eyes and Harry shuddered to think he had put it there.

Harry went back to the door and attempted to open it, but it wouldn't budge. He tried every unlocking spell he knew but the door just wouldn't open. Resigned, he looked through the window and saw the man back at his cauldron, his posture slumped.

He looked like a man defeated.

Harry ran a hand over his face and mentally berated himself for being so stupid. How could he have done that? He knew the answer- that he had been so worked up by Snape's admission that he hadn't been thinking at all.

He looked back through the window only to find Snape was looking back. He pointed his wand at Harry again and the window blacked out.

Harry spun around and leaned against the door, willing himself not to break down.

Oh gods, what had he done?

More than anyone else in his life, Snape was the one he would rather cut out his own heart than hurt. And he had hurt him. The coldness he'd heard in Snape's voice and the look of betrayal in his eyes was burned into his memory, and was more than enough to show Harry the harm he had done. His heart was breaking and he wanted nothing more than to pound on the door and demand that Snape listen to him.

But then his common sense kicked in, and he realized that this wasn't the place to lose his head. Someone could come around the corner at any moment- down here, most likely a Slytherin- and with Harry's luck they would be more than happy to tell Voldemort that Harry had been on the outside of Snape's door begging to come in.

He forced himself out of that train of thought and willed himself to move away from the door; away from Snape and the dungeons. This time there was no consolation; no thoughts that he would be returning soon enough.

His body shuddered and his heart was heavy with the knowledge of what he had just lost.

********************

Draco Malfoy watched from behind a suit of armor in the potions hallway as Harry Potter composed himself and walked away. Gray eyes followed Potter up the stairs, and it was only when he was no longer in sight that Draco allowed himself to consider what he had just seen.

Severus and Potter had been trying to pass themselves off as friends since the beginning of the school year. Only the fight he had just witnessed hadn't looked like a fight between two friends. He had seen the pain in Severus' eyes as Potter had tried to explain away whatever stupid thing he had done to hurt the Potions Master.

It hadn't been the pain caused by a friend's betrayal. Severus had looked as though his heart had been broken by whatever fool thing the Gryffindor had done. Potter had looked like his entire world was falling apart.

Draco sneered. Apparently Potter had grown closer to Severus over the summer than Draco would have liked. Well, that just wouldn't do. Severus was his. He was _meant_ to be his.

Draco had watched Potter come down to the dungeons for his 'lessons'. Whatever they were practicing, Potter wasn't doing very well if his attitude at the end of the night said anything. And that made Draco very happy.

But they always went into Severus' office, which was heavily warded. This was the first time he had been able to see them interact with each other.

And damn, had he seen. The interaction between the two men had been very revealing, even if they themselves hadn't known it.

A lovers' quarrel.

Draco gritted his teeth and fingered the piece of parchment in his pocket.

Draco had known the Potions Master all his life, and had been in love with him for the majority of it. And now after three months Potter was trying to move in on the man he had spent years waiting for?

Draco was not going to let that happen. He'd been patient long enough. He had waited long enough.

Draco left his hiding place and made his way back to his dorm. Severus would be his, and there was nothing that Potter or anyone else could do about it.


	20. If the Accident Will

If the Accident Will

Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling and I make no profit from this fic.

Warnings: I'll take this time to remind you yet again that this fic is rated M and will evetually have sexual relations between two men.

Author's notes: My cup runneth over. Thank you to my darling Torina who has been so busy with school but still found time to scrub down the first half of this chapter. Thanks to thesewarmstars and WhiteCotton for giving a beta read to the last half. Also, thanks as always to Laurenke1 who helps with the plot.

There are additional author's notes at the end of the chapter. Please make note of them.

Today (March 14th) is my birthday. : ) This is my gift to you.

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* * *

"I hope that we'll meet again in a world of peace and freedom in the taxi cab if the accident will." Gerhard Muller to Kurt Vonnegut as recorded in _Slaughterhouse Five._

_-_

It was Friday afternoon and Snape was awaiting Harry's potions class, his last class of the day.

It had been a week since Snape had cast the young man out of the potions classroom. A week since he had spoken more than the bare minimum required to continue his instruction.

They had suffered through two Defense and Occlumency lessons since that day, and they had been both awkward and painful in the extreme. Harry had tried to tell Snape that the Potions Master had misunderstood his reaction to his unintentional revelation. But when Snape had questioned him on his true feelings Harry had simply lowered his gaze, repeating that he had not meant what Snape thought he had and refusing to explain any further.

Snape had refused to accept such a boldfaced lie, and when Harry had rejected the continuation of their lessons until Snape believed him, Snape had cast him out yet again.

Harry had attended their next lesson three days later, sullen and looking as though he had not slept since the last time Snape had seen him.

As much as the Potions Master wanted to believe Harry, he could not. How could he, when Harry's honest response had been shock and revulsion? No, he knew he had been acting the fool since the beginning of their odd relationship. He had known from the beginning that allowing Harry to grow close to him would ultimately destroy him. It had been foolhardy to allow himself to care for him regardless.

He truly hated being right all the time.

His only real consolation in his present misery was that he had been present in Harry's time of need. His suffering was insignificant in the face of what his sacrifice had brought Harry. A temporary home; a place where he could feel comfortable enough to heal from the death of his best friend. He could abide this utter destruction of his heart in the name of atonement, in the name of sacrifice.

For Harry.

He moved to stand just outside the door, his head covering the small window near the top, awaiting the young man who was never far from his thoughts and longing for the day to be over so he could return to the solace of his rooms.

The few students who had been accepted into his Advanced Potions class began to enter and Snape watched with bated breath as he saw Harry and Granger approach.

The bushy-haired chit really was walking too close to him, he thought, annoyed.

Harry sought out his gaze and Snape could not help but meet it as the younger man walked up to and through the door.

"Potter," he said, nodding.

"Professor." Harry nodded back.

Yes, it would not do for the Death Eaters' children to report a falling out between the Potions Master and the Boy Who Lived. Snape was grateful that Harry had not required Snape to spell it out for him.

He was about to close the door and begin the lesson when he realized he was one student short. Suddenly Draco was walking past him, nudging his shoulder slightly.

"Sorry, Professor," the young Slytherin said, flashing Snape a cloyingly sweet smile.

He quashed the desire to cast _Scourgify_ on himself as he watched the young man cross the room. Snape felt his heart speed up at having allowed Draco so close to his person. He calmed himself, realizing that he was being foolish; the boy had only bumped into him by accident. As had become his habit of late, he observed the younger Slytherin carefully, scanning for any ill intent. His gaze came to a startled halt when he reached Draco's hands.

He was wearing dragon hide gloves.

They were hardly standard equipment, even in Advanced Potions. They were an extravagant expense unless you had true need for them, and there was nothing in the curriculum that required such protection. The potions he and Harry had been brewing for the Order were much more sensitive than those in the seventh year curriculum. Harry had been in need of dragon hide gloves. Draco was not.

Snape's wayward eyes met Harry's and they shared a look of mutual apprehension.

Snape turned his gaze away from the young Gryffindor's, refusing to let more thoughts of Harry fill his overcrowded mind. It was bad enough that Harry was being seen publicly obsessing over his well-being. He could not afford himself the same luxury.

He had originally planned to have the class work on a difficult potion that they had not yet covered, but he quickly realized that he would not be able to keep his attention focused on Draco if he carried through with his lesson plans.

After only a moment's hesitation, Snape made up his mind and flicked his wand over the chalkboard.

"Today you will be revising a potion that will appear on your N.E.W.T exams. This potion should be familiar to you, and I expect you to complete it perfectly with ease. Or at least, you should if you retained anything at all over the summer holidays."

He turned to the class, his eyes drifting over Draco. The younger man was giving Snape his undivided attention.

"I expect a perfect sample of Draught of the Living Death by the end of the class period. Begin."

The students began their work and Snape sat down behind his bench, cognizant of Draco's every movement. When the younger Slytherin went up to gather his ingredients Snape chanced a glance at Harry, who looked to be slightly panicked. Green eyes met his, silently pleading for... something. As much as Snape wanted to ignore Harry, to tune him out and drive him further away, his desire to remain a whole, independent human being was greater. He would not allow Harry to put himself in harm's way if Draco attacked him, but he would take assistance if it was safe and necessary.

Snape nodded at Harry and gestured for him to gather his ingredients. Harry hesitated before rising from his seat, walking past Draco, who was returning to his bench.

Snape allowed his eyes to take in the room, seeming to watch every student as they began their potions but never allowing Draco to leave his peripheral vision. He watched as the Slytherin took out a piece of parchment that looked off-color to Snape and proceeded to take notes. Snape froze.

Why would Draco need to take notes? This was hardly a new lesson and if Snape's memory was accurate, Draco's had been one of the few perfect potions last year.

He looked more closely at the parchment and ink Draco was using, his every instinct telling him something was amiss.

Draco normally used very high-grade, new parchment, with black ink bottled by a well-known stationery company located in Diagon Alley.

The parchment he was using today was older and faded, with a few tears and many wrinkles. The ink was in an older container and he could see that it was a dark red.

Snape began mentally reviewing every potion that could be absorbed through skin, but there were simply too many to determine which Draco might be attempting to use on him. His mind wandered over some of the darker potions that he knew were in the book Draco had read and shuddered. The number of dark potions were too numerous to count.

Again, Snape could not keep his eyes from drifting over to Harry, who was unabashedly staring at Draco as though he could stop whatever he was planning with just the force of his gaze.

Snape cleared his throat and Harry's head snapped towards him. Their eyes met long enough for Snape to glare at him before the Gryffindor looked away.

He could still recall that day in the infirmary when they had first discovered Draco's true intentions toward him. Snape had told Harry that he would have to become very good at deception.

The man mentally scoffed as he acknowledged that there was little chance of Harry ever learning to keep his every thought from showing on his face. Even now the young man screamed paranoia as he continued to shift his gaze from his potion to Draco, as though he would attack Snape openly and in the middle of class.

Though Snape doubted that would happen, his wand was at the ready and he was as prepared for an attack as he could be in the middle of a lesson. A distraction in the form of an exploding potion would not be difficult to manage, and if Snape was not careful he could find himself besieged.

The Potions Master sat back in his chair and observed the class, most of whom were working on and completing their potions perfectly. He kept close watch as Draco diced, chopped, sliced, and stirred both clockwise then counterclockwise. There was nothing out of sorts about his actions, save his continued note-taking with the blood-red ink on the wrinkled parchment.

Harry's was the only potion that seemed to be a dismal failure. While all the other potions were releasing blue steam, his smoked black, which happened when the asphodel wasn't added at the correct stage. At the halfway stage, when the potion should have been a deep purple color, Harry's was almost pink.

Snape gritted his teeth, annoyed that Harry was never able to be vigilant and productive at the same time. The Potions Master sat tensely behind his bench for the rest of the period, ready should anything out of the ordinary happen.

Finally the students began bottling their potions and bringing them up to his bench. Snape's eyes left Draco for a moment so he could chance a glance at Harry. While everyone else's potions were clear, his was a murky gray.

Green eyes met black, and Snape raised an eyebrow as Harry walked to the front and placed the failed potion on his bench. Harry paused in front of him for a moment too long and Snape looked up at him. His face was completely open and his eyes revealed unmasked terror. Snape wanted nothing more than to tell him that it was nearly over, that they were nearly through this; but that would have been a lie. Snape gave Harry a hard look and gripped the wand in his hand, more alert than before. He silently willed Harry to do the same. Even though he was no longer on speaking terms with him, he had no desire to see the younger man injured should Draco choose to attack.

"Back to your seat, Potter," Snape said to Harry, his voice harsh and brooking no argument. Harry shamelessly glared at Draco on his way back to his bench, his actions making it clear that he was prepared for an attack.

Draco simply began putting his unused ingredients away, never removing his gloves and leaving the parchment and ink out on the bench.

One by one the students finished cleaning up and began to file out the door.

All except Draco and Harry.

Draco approached his bench slowly, smiling and with potion in hand. Harry looked terrified and gripped his wand. "Is there something you require, Potter?" Snape snapped at him.

Harry shook his head. Draco simply stood in front of his desk, waiting for Snape to give him his undivided attention.

"No, Professor. Just need to gather my ingredients," Harry said as he put away his things slowly.

Snape cocked an eyebrow. "Then perhaps you should cease dawdling and do so."

Snape watched for a moment as Harry rolled his eyes and then resumed packing up his ingredients with tense, jerky movements, before turning back to Draco.

He turned to Draco. "Problem, Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco flashed his blinding teeth at him once more. "Yes, professor. I'm afraid my potion didn't come out right." Draco held up his bottled Draught, revealing a potion with the consistency of water and with a slight rose tint.

Snape frowned. Perhaps he had missed something while he had been watching Harry. He had not noticed Draco making a mistake. "You did not seem to have a problem the first time we brewed this potion, Mr. Malfoy. I fail to understand how you could have produced such an inferior potion now."

Draco frowned and sighed dramatically. "I know. I admit I didn't review this potion over the holidays and I think I completely messed it up." Gray eyes settled over his and gestured to the parchment in his gloved hand. "I knew I'd have a problem with it, so I took notes during every stage."

Snape eyed the parchment but did not touch it. "An excellent plan if you suspect that you will have difficulties in your brewing. Read your steps aloud and I will tell you where you went wrong."

"That's just the thing, Professor Snape." Draco offered the parchment to him, thrusting it over the bench. "I don't think I did anything wrong. You can look for yourself."

Suddenly there was a crash and the sound of glass breaking filled the room. Harry stuck out his head from the ingredients closet. "Oops. Sorry, professor. Nothing important broke... I think."

Snape's eye-roll was genuine. Could Harry think of no other excuse to remain?

"Clean up your mess and Merlin help you if you destroyed anything valuable, Potter!"

A head of messy black hair nodded almost comically and retreated into the closet. If Snape looked closely enough he could see a disheveled bird's nest and green eyes watching through the crack in the door.

Snape turned back to Draco who was still holding out the tainted parchment to Snape, bidding him to take it.

"Read it, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco frowned and he moved the parchment so he could begin to read. Suddenly his eyes lit up in false astonishment, and he put the parchment down on Snape's bench.

He underlined a sentence with one gloved finger. "Could it be here, professor?"

Snape looked down, but Draco's notes showed he had completed the specified step correctly. The Potions Master leaned over the parchment but was careful to maintain a safe distance.

"Adding the asphodel at an incorrect time can ruin the potion; however, if your notes are correct, you added it correctly. If you had not, your potion would look much like Potter's." He gestured to the murky potion that stood out from the clear ones. He looked past Draco's shoulder and observed that Harry was still watching them closely.

The notion that the younger man cared so much warmed him, but he could not dwell on it. Not with Draco and his poisoned parchment still in front of him.

"I know I added everything correctly. I have no idea what went wrong." Draco looked confused and removed the lid from his potion, inhaling. "The smell seems right. What do you think, professor?"

Keeping his arm up and away from the parchment, Snape reached his hand over his bench. He held the bottle in his hand, looking at the murky color but watery consistency. He had no idea what Draco had done incorrectly. He took the bottle and held it up under his nose, expecting to smell the strong scent of the valerian root- but he smelled nothing.

"Mr. Malfoy, at what point did you add the-" Snape broke off as the classroom began to spin. His vision blurred, but he could still make out the twisted smile on Draco's face.

_Oh, gods, no._

His head was growing heavy and he felt his strength leaving him. He looked at the bottle in his hands and used all his remaining strength to throw it into the far corner of the classroom.

"Draco..." Snape's voice was strained, his breathing becoming labored. He struggled to stand up but quickly found he could not. "What did you do?"

Snape found that his neck could no longer support his head. His head tipped forward, and so he heard rather than saw the smirk in Draco's voice as he said, "Something for you, Severus." The younger Slytherin's voice dropped. "Always for you." The young man in front of him took off his gloves and cupped Snape's cheek in his hand, bringing his face up to meet gray eyes. "The parchment, Severus? You didn't really think I'd do something so obvious?"

Snape's eyes could stay open no longer. The last thing he saw was Harry approaching from the closet, and he registered mild surprise at how quietly he was walking. The last thing he was aware of was Draco's smug voice saying, "Merlin! That was far too easy."

*******************************

Harry turned around from his position in the supply closet when he heard the sound of a bottle being smashed against a wall. He stood in shock for a moment and his eyes sought out Snape. He watched in stunned fear as Snape's eyes went wide with terror.

"Draco, what did you do?"

Harry forced himself to breathe and steeled himself for only a moment, horror-struck at the realization of what had just occurred.

Malfoy had gotten to Snape, and right behind his back. He'd sworn that he wouldn't let that happen, and it had.

Harry quickly stepped out of the supply closet and took aim, hoping to hit Malfoy before he could draw his wand.

_"Petrificus Totalus," _ Harry cast at the Slytherin, only to see the other throw up a shield at the last possible second.

Malfoy turned away from Snape and took in Harry, no doubt realizing that the situation had changed. Whatever he was planning wasn't going to happen as easily as he had thought.

He smirked. "Calm down, Potter. I haven't done anything horrible to your precious Potions professor. He-"

The younger Slytherin broke off as Harry recast the spell, blocking it yet again. "Potter! You can leave now." Malfoy sneered at him and waved a hand towards the door. "This doesn't concern you. It's none of your business."

Harry looked over to Snape, whose head had drooped over onto the bench, his breath coming in short pants. His hair was completely covering his face and Harry silently willed the man to look up, if only so Harry could assess the damage.

_Please, Snape, look at me._

But the lank hair continued to hide the pale face and Harry grew more frightened at hearing the panting breaths coming from the man. "He is my business," Harry said, his voice a deadly whisper.

Malfoy's eyes turned to slits and he widened his stance, no doubt realizing he wasn't going to get away with hurting Snape so easily.

Harry looked from Snape to Malfoy, then met the younger man's eyes.

"You can't have him, you know?" Malfoy said softly, anger and madness in his eyes. "You always get everything you want. But not this," Malfoy said, gesturing towards Snape. "He's mine. He's always been mine. He just doesn't know it yet." Malfoy chanced a quick glance back at the Potions Master before focusing again on Harry. "But he will soon. Just wait a moment. I'm sure effects will be terribly interesting." Malfoy smiled genuinely and said, "You're welcome to stay and watch... At least for a while."

Harry gritted his teeth. "What did you do? Which spell did you use?"

Malfoy's smile widened. "_I _didn't do anything. The potion on the other hand-"

"Damn you, Malfoy! Which potion did you use? What have you _done_ to him?" Harry roared, his chest heaving and his entire body beginning to shake in fear.

Malfoy looked far too proud of himself. "Everyone has to make a choice, Potter. Even you should know that. That's all I did-"

"_Expelliarmus_," Harry said, quietly, hoping that this time the Slytherin wouldn't hear the attack coming. For all the defensive magic Snape had taught him, they had hardly begun to cover offensive spells.

Malfoy easily blocked the disarming spell. His cocky look was replaced by one of annoyance. "I think it's time you left, Potter. This is between Severus and me. You have no place here."

Harry seethed. The nerve of Malfoy to do this and then make claims over Snape- as though he were some object, without feelings. Harry wouldn't stand for it. Snape didn't belong to Malfoy.

Snape was his.

"You call this love?" Harry motioned between the Potions Master and the other man with his wand. "Forcing yourself on him? You have no idea what love is."

Malfoy laughed. "And you do?"

Harry's hands began to shake harder. "I know love isn't trying to control someone! I know it's not trying to trap them into something they would never want!"

Malfoy frowned again. "Trap him? You have no idea what's going on here, do you?" Malfoy smirked and relaxed his stance. "You don't know much of anything, do you Potter? You think he's yours? Even after that disgustingly melodramatic display outside this very room?"

Guilt burrowed into Harry at mention of the awful thing he had done. He buried it down, trying not to think of how Malfoy came to know about that. He could not be distracted, not when Snape's life was hanging in the balance.

Harry was about to retort when out of the corner of his eye he saw Snape drawing his wand from his pocket. Harry cast _Expelliarmus_ again to distract Malfoy, and Snape lifted his wand with a shaking hand as the younger Slytherin's shield dropped.

"_Petrificus Totalus._"

Draco dropped to the floor with a loud thud, and Harry breathed a sigh of relief.

He turned to face Snape, watching as he rose from behind his desk, cast a wordless spell that opened the door, and used his wand to toss Malfoy out of the room. The Potions Master let his hands fall to his sides, and Harry allowed his shoulders to slump as the man's breathing eased.

He looked alright.

Maybe Malfoy hadn't had time to complete whatever bond he had chosen to inflict on Snape. Harry mentally went over the few dark spells that had been present in the book Malfoy had researched and realized that many of the potions required an activation spell.

"Oh, thank God!" Harry breathed, his voice nothing more than a whisper. His body was still shaking, and when he brought a hand to his brow he was surprised to see it come away covered in sweat.

He hadn't failed. Snape was alright.

He wasn't Malfoy's bonded slave or mindless servant. He was himself and Harry had to stop himself from laughing in relief. He wasn't out of danger yet, though; he was outwardly unchanged, but Malfoy's potion could have done anything. He still needed to get the man to the Headmaster to assess the damage. If it was a matter of activating the potion with a spell, Malfoy would have more than ample opportunity the next time the man stepped out of his rooms.

"Snape. Gods, Snape, are you alright-" Harry broke off as the other man turned to face him for the first time, realizing in horror that Snape's eyes were glazed over. His eyes were unfocused, but he slowly blinked as he took in Harry's form. The younger man stood still as he watched the Potions Master's gaze go up and down his body, studying him with almost obsessive intensity. Before Harry knew what was happening Snape had crossed the room and engulfed him in his arms, holding onto him with great strength.

"Harry," Snape whispered. "Merlin, Harry, are you alright? Were you injured?" Harry met the eyes of his professor and found them still dazed, the man's face full of concern.

"Snape?" Harry's voice wavered as the Potions Master knelt down and ran his hands over Harry's legs, moving his fingers up his pant leg, as if he could seek out injuries with his hands alone. Harry began to grow more nervous at Snape's odd behavior as he realized that his earlier fears were valid. Snape had been affected by the potion.

The Potions Master's hands began to travel upward, moving slowly to the outside of his thighs before traveling inward.

"No, I- I'm fine," Harry stuttered, his voice shaky as long-fingered hands continued their examination of his entire body. Pale and slender, Snape's hands moved up Harry's hips and around his back to feel his buttocks. Harry gasped and tried to move away but Snape pulled him closer, running his fingers across Harry's back and then over his chest, and it felt more as if he was slowly mapping out territory than checking for injury.

He stood to reach Harry's shoulders and then moved his hands over his face, which he took into his hands as he looked into his eyes. Harry could see they were still glazed, but at the same time seemed warmer and more content than Harry had ever known them to be. And then Snape smiled.

Harry had never been so terrified in his life.

_Oh, gods. What did Malfoy do?_

"Snape, I need you to listen to me." Harry took a deep breath and tried to think of how best to explain the situation. "I think you're under the influence of a potion. We should go to Dumbledore-" Harry was silenced as dark eyes and pale hands started concentrating on his mouth, calloused fingertips running over his bottom lip as dark eyes looked upon his as though he were the most beautiful thing Snape had ever seen.

"Professor?"

"Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?" Snape asked in a fierce whisper.

Harry closed his eyes, fighting the feeling of cold terror and confusion at Snape's words. What had Malfoy done? Snape was angry with him; hated him if Harry's fears were true. Even if they weren't, the Potions Master certainly didn't think he was beautiful. What could Malfoy have done to Snape to fool him like this?

"Professor," Harry continued, his eyes still closed, "you're under the influence of a potion. Draco Malfoy did something to you. If we get to the headmaster in time maybe he can stop whatever it is-" Harry abruptly stopped speaking when he realized that Snape was kissing his eyelids.

Smooth, thin lips kissed first one eye and then the other, and Harry fought to control his breathing. Snape leaned in even closer and ran his nose over Harry's forehead before inhaling languidly and pulling back. Harry opened his eyes.

Snape was still smiling at him.

"Do you know that when I first saw you in the infirmary, I thought I had gone mad. I thought it was another who had come to me." Snape sighed and ran a hand through Harry's hair, his other hand firm on his back. "But then I realized it was a young man before me, and that your eyes are beautiful in a way hers never were." Snape smiled wider as he looked at Harry. "At least to me."

Harry shuddered and reminded himself that Snape was under the influence of a potion. He couldn't mean anything he was saying. He tried to push his own confusion about his feelings for Snape to the back of his mind, but found it impossible. Harry's heart had leapt into his chest at the sound of the beautiful words coming from Snape's mouth. He tried again and failed to quell his happiness at the pretty lies that were being spoken to him.

And it was impossible to ignore how wonderful the hand on his back felt or how amazing it was to have Snape look at him the way he was.

"The potion-"

"I have no idea what you are speaking of, Harry." Snape kissed his forehead again, and this time he let his lips linger; trailing dry kisses down his cheek, close to his ear.

And oh, it felt so good. Had he always wanted Snape to touch him like this? Was this what he had been missing?

Harry forced himself to open his eyes. No, he couldn't let himself enjoy this. It would be violating the man, being with him like this when he wasn't in his right mind.

"Snape-"

Snape kissed his cheek again, this time on the corner of his lips.

Harry felt himself go weak in the knees. He was breathless and he could feel his cock starting to swell as he thought of how good it would feel if Snape would move his lips just a bit more.

He jerked away but Snape kept his hand on his back.

Snape looked at him, frowning. "Am I disturbing you?" Snape's eyes widened in confusion. "Do you not want this?" he asked, running a hand up and down Harry's back and kissing his face again as if to illustrate his point.

"No- I... I like it. But the potion-"

Snape pulled back and smiled again. This time the action brought a sense of amazement to Harry rather than terror. Almost involuntarily, Harry's hand rose up to trace the man's face with his fingers. He looked so different when he was smiling. Younger and happier; still like himself but a less world-weary version.

Harry liked it.

He smiled back, unable to stop himself from tracing the man's lips with his fingers. He had wanted to do this once before, the last time he had seen the Potions Master smiling at him, but he hadn't had the courage. He hadn't understood why he had wanted to touch Snape so intimately then, but he was beginning to understand now.

Snape's smile widened at this and as Harry's calloused thumb ran over the center of his mouth the Potions Master's tongue darted out, licking it and then sucking his thumb into his mouth.

Harry gasped, and felt blood rush straight to his cock.

Snape kissed his thumb and then released it.

This was too wonderful to be real, Harry thought. His mind wandered over a dozen scenes of his past. Good things like this did not happen to him.

_Not without a price._

Harry jerked back again, managing to free himself from Snape's grasp this time, and held up a hand.

The Potion Master looked saddened but stayed back.

"Snape," Harry said, trying to get control over his breathing and his wayward erection. "You're under the influence of a potion. What you're feeling isn't real. Draco Malfoy was just here and he drugged you. We need to get you to Dumbledore before something awful happens."

Snape raised an eyebrow.

"The book, Snape," Harry begged the Potions Master to remember. "Remember the book from this summer? _Darkest Bonds_? Malfoy's done something to you. You don't really feel this way about me," Harry lamented, realizing even as he spoke the words that they were true. "You're angry with me for something stupid I did. You hate me right now."

Snape's face had never looked this open as it filled with confusion at Harry's words. "Hate you?" He moved forward and shook his head, looking deeply into Harry's eyes. "No, Harry. I could never hate you." He pulled Harry close once again, and Harry cursed himself for being weak enough to allow it.

"You don't feel this way for me, I promise," Harry said, knowing his sadness bled through into his voice.

Because he was beginning to realize he did want Snape to feel this way for him. The look he was giving him now was what had been missing all summer. Every time he had touched the Potions Master, every time he had let his eyes linger on him- it had been leading up to this. How could he have been so clueless? Was it because Snape was a man and Harry had never been attracted to men before?

But was it love to want someone else to want you? To love you the way Snape seemed convinced he loved Harry at the moment?

Harry was confused and tried to pull away again, but Snape was having none of it. "You stupid boy," Snape said, his tone of voice full of fondness and affection, and Harry's head snapped up to meet his gaze.

Black eyes penetrated green, and the Potions Master ran his hand along the small of Harry's back, the other resting on the nape of his neck.

"I have been in love with you for months."

Harry's eyes went wide.

"At the moment I have no idea why I did not act on it before." Snape looked past Harry, a confused expression on his face, as though he was trying and failing to process his past actions. He turned his gaze back on him. "But I do love you, Harry."

Then suddenly Snape's lips were on his and Harry could feel his heart soar as the Potions Master's words reverberated in his mind.

_He loves me._

Snape's lips were dry and thin but they kissed Harry's sweetly and slowly, barely opening for him but it was the single greatest sensation of Harry's life. Snape opened his mouth more and kissed him again, Harry's fuller lips being coaxed open by the other's. He could feel the man's nose budging up against his cheek and never thought it could be so erotic. The Snape's mouth moved over his own and the smell of the man was surrounding him and it was all too much for Harry's weakening resolve.

Harry threw his arms around Snape and let his hands touch the slender neck.

_Oh._

It was exactly like he had thought it would be. This was what he had been missing. All that time down in the dungeons. All the times he wanted to touch Snape, desired any small amount of contact with him at all. All the confusion Harry had been feeling for the past month. He knew what he had wanted, now. It was here and it was this and it was finally happening.

Harry ran his fingers over Snape's neck, enjoying the feel of the only piece of flesh he could get at. It was as slender and smooth as he had thought it would be and Snape made a small moan as Harry caressed him. The scent of the man's hair was invading Harry's nostrils and his lips were moving over his and-

"Wait," Harry said, breaking away.

This was wrong. Snape was under the influence of a potion. He couldn't do this to the man. Not when he didn't know what Malfoy had done to him.

"Do you know what Malfoy did to you? What potion he used?"

Snape looked confused again. "I have no idea what you are talking about, Harry."

A light went on in Harry's head. "Look, see. You're calling me 'Harry.' You never call me Harry, not unless something horrible's happening. Don't you see, this isn't you? As much as I would like this," Harry waved a hand between them, "it's not real."

Snape smiled and approached Harry again. The scent of potion fumes and the dungeons invaded Harry's nostrils and he felt his resolve weaken further.

"I always refer to you as Harry." Snape pulled his body closer again and this time Harry could feel Snape's erection dig into his hip. "I've called you Harry since I've known you; since that day in the infirmary."

Harry frowned. Snape was making it seem as though they had only met a few months ago.

"I've known you for seven years, Snape. And what day in the infirmary are you talking about?"

Snape frowned but answered Harry's question. "When I was injured. You were there." Snape smiled and he petted Harry's hair again. "I did not realize it was you at first. I knew there was some gentle, giving man by my bedside but never in my dreams would I have thought it was you." Snape looked at Harry as though he were seeing him for the first time again, as though he was in awe of him. "Do you have any idea how fortunate I am?" Snape leaned down and kissed him again. "Everything about you is so beautiful."

Harry could feel himself coming undone as he tried to make sense of Snape's words.

Had Malfoy used some sort of truth serum? Some new form of veritaserum that forced the drinker to tell the truth about who they were in love with?

Had Malfoy thought it would be him?

"You think I'm beautiful?" were not the words Harry had planned on saying, yet they escaped his mouth. Harry cringed at how ridiculous he sounded, chasing after compliments like some silly girl.

Snape put a finger under his chin and pulled his eyes up to meet him. Black met green yet again as Snape begged Harry to believe him. "You _are_ beautiful."

And then he was kissing him again. Harry sighed inwardly and let himself be kissed. He reveled in the feel of the man who was showing more passion than he would have thought possible.

All he wanted was to give in, to let Snape kiss him and tell him that he loved him and that he thought he was beautiful. Harry let out a contented breath as he felt a hand brush his own, interlacing their fingers. Harry smiled into the kiss and thought of the very first time he had held Snape's hand. He looked up to Snape's eyes and were startled to see that they were still glazed. Harry's conscience flared up again and he backed away.

"I'm- I'm sorry," he said, breathless from the kiss. "I can't let you do this. Not when you're under the influence of a potion."

Snape looked troubled so Harry continued. "Even if you don't know it, you _are_ under the influence of a potion."

Snape shook his head and tried to pull Harry closer.

"Snape-"

"Why are you calling me that?" Snape asked, his face inquisitive.

Harry ran a hand through his hair and tried to quell the rush of heat flowing through his body. "Oh, sorry. Professor?"

Snape frowned and pulled the hand out of Harry's hair, brushing through it with his own.

"Why are you not calling me by my name, Harry?"

Harry looked up into dark eyes. "Severus?"

Severus smiled and placed a chaste kiss on Harry's open lips. "Yes. I have always thought my name sounded harsh but on your lips it is almost melodious."

Harry allowed himself to smile a bit but would not be sidetracked again.

"Severus-" Harry paused a moment, thinking how odd the name sounded on his lips- "if you still feel this way tomorrow, then just tell me. It's not that I don't want this or don't want you but... You're under the influence of a potion-"

"Oh, Harry," Severus said, running his eyes over Harry's face. "Always so noble, always putting other's needs before your own." Severus ran a hand through Harry's hair again. "I very much appreciate your attempts at protecting me, Harry, but it is I who am called to protect you."

Harry was confused, and he knew it was plain as day on his face. "Well, you do. You always have."

Severus nodded and pulled Harry's body tightly to his own. "Yes, and you have protected me. You have cared for me and moved down to the dungeons for me. I kept you locked away from everyone for months and you allowed it." Severus smiled and his face took on that look of awe once more. "The most beautiful creature the world has ever seen and all you could think of was helping me."

Harry felt Severus' erection graze his hip again and he moved his body against it mindlessly, seeking any small amount of friction he could attain. "Yes," he said, as he thrust lightly.

Severus made a small moaning sound and stilled Harry's body. "Not yet," he said, kissing Harry's face once more.

The Potions Master pulled Harry close to him, all the while petting his face and back. Harry closed his eyes involuntarily and leaned into the touch. When Snape began to speak again, he had to force himself to listen and not simply concentrate on how wonderful those touches felt.

"You have always protected others. Protected your loved ones, and always putting their needs ahead of your own." Snape looked deep into Harry's eyes as he continued. "You don't even realize you do it, do you? You even put aside your own mourning to help others in their time of need." Harry closed his eyes, and Severus kissed his eyelids again. "So noble."

Severus looked around suddenly, seeming to realize where they were. "Will you come with me?" he asked, and all Harry could do was nod, realizing they were still in the potions classroom, with the little window threatening to reveal everything to passersby.

Severus wrapped an arm around his back and ushered him to the door that led to his private lab, then his office, and moving quickly into his quarters.

Harry allowed himself to be led, the entire time reminding himself that he had to protect Severus from whatever was happening to him.

Severus closed the door to his sitting room and whirled around to face Harry. He took the younger man's hands in his own. Severus' expression was far more serious than it had been before when he began to speak.

"Harry, I have always protected you, and it is my greatest desire to continue protecting you, in all things."

Harry frowned, not knowing where this conversation was heading. Why did Severus feel the need to say this? He'd always protected Harry.

"You've always protected me, even when we weren't... friends." Trying to turn the conversation to where he thought it would go, he said, "But who's going to protect you?"

Snape smiled and said, "You will, Harry. You have, though I believe I require far less protection than you."

Severus pulled Harry close to him and led him to the sofa. He pressed Harry down and then took a seat next to him, their thighs touching.

Harry had not been here since the first day of September and recalled his thoughts at the time. He had never wanted to leave Snape. He'd wanted to make a home here and just be with the man forever.

How could he have missed this? Had he truly been so clueless?

Harry shook himself from his thoughts and looked at the man who was so close he was nearly on top of him. The man's robes were spread over his own, his hair over his face, seeming to form a curtain around them.

For the first time since this odd meeting had begun, Severus seemed focused on something other than Harry. He tilted his head, almost as though he was listening to something, something Harry couldn't hear.

Snape nodded his head and turned his attention back to Harry, who was now looking at him with deep concern. Snape smiled and ran his fingers down his cheek, trying to distract Harry from whatever odd thing that had just happened.

"Harry, I need you to listen to me. This is very important." Snape's voice became serious and low, his eyes never leaving Harry's.

"You need someone who will protect you. Someone who will love you and look out for only your needs and your best interests." Snape looked uncertain for the very first time since this strange incident had begun. "I want very much to be that person for you." Snape ran his fingers over Harry's cheek. "And you for me."

Snape's gaze only intensified as he continued. "I want to be the person who will love you, who will give you everything you could ever need." Severus paused and brought a hand to rest on Harry's neck. "There are dark times approaching, Harry, and I truly believe this is necessary. That protecting you in this way will be necessary."

Confused, he tried to take everything Snape was saying. "You would love me?" was all he could think to ask.

Severus smiled and kissed him again. "I would. I do. And you would love me as well. You are the most giving person I know and I would never take anything away from you. Not even your own foolish desire to protect me."

Severus' smile faded a bit and his eyes ran over Harry's body. He pulled him close again and spoke quietly in his ear. "I would love nothing more than to hide you away, you know. Keep you here in the dungeons and never let you out. Stand guard over your body and never allow anyone else to be near you." Harry gulped and felt his cock throb in his pants. Snape's voice was like silk, deep and beautiful and doing strange things to Harry's body. Had he never noticed how beautiful it was before?

"I want to protect you with my life and never let anyone else see you, never allow anyone else to marvel at your beauty. I want to make you mine and keep you to myself, selfishly, never sharing you with the world."

Severus pulled away and looked down into Harry's eyes. The fierce possessiveness in the black orbs astounded him.

"But I swear I will not. You would never forgive me for it and I love you far too much to take you away from the world you so love." Severus kissed his forehead and leaned back again to look at him. "What will exist between us will be a relationship of equals. As much as I would love to keep you from all danger, I know it would go against your nature not to protect me as well."

Harry was taken aback and he leaned away from Severus and into the pillows, trying to understand what the man was saying. Severus seemed to realize Harry was confused and he again titled his head slightly, listening to some unheard voice. His eyes were unfocused and Harry's concern for the other man grew.

His eyes moved to Harry's again. "Listen to me." Snape grabbed Harry's hands, squeezing them to the point of pain. "You will want for nothing. Anything you need, anything you desire, I will give to you. You are everything I have ever wanted and I will be everything you could ever desire, all you must do is say yes."

"But- I don't want you like this. I'd- I..." Harry stammered. "The potion, Severus." Harry's mind was reeling but he struggled to hold onto that one fact. It was the only thing anchoring him to the ground. "I don't want to start something with you that's false-"

Snape leaned over Harry, interrupting him. "I am very sorry you do not believe that I love you." Snape kissed his cheek, his lips lingering there for a moment. He pulled back and looked at Harry again. "It will be my goal in this life to show you how much I love you, how much I care for you, with my every word, with my every movement. Everything I do will be for you and I swear you will soon believe me."

Harry could hardly breathe. It was as though Severus was reading his mind and seeing everything Harry desired.

Severus never wanted to leave him. He wanted Harry to be with him, to love him, to protect him. It was everything Harry had ever wanted. To have someone who understood him, who knew him and loved him for the person he truly was and to be able to love them in return.

"Would I- " Harry broke off, his voice cracking. "Could I make a home with you?"

Severus' smile stretched wider on his face and reached up to his eyes. "Yes. Home will be wherever you are."

Harry couldn't stop the smile that spread across his face. How could he resist this? How could he say no to everything he had ever wanted- given by the man he now he he wanted just as much?

Harry knew that Severus was under the influence of a potion and that even if he meant every word he was saying, it was still not right to take advantage of the man; this man of all men, who valued choice and responsibility above all else. He knew he should pull away now. He knew Severus would not force himself on him, and if he insisted, would go with him to the headmaster's office. He could say no. He could do the right thing, right by himself and right by Snape and let him go. Harry's conscience and his desires were tearing him in two.

He should say no...

But he had been alone for so long, and the touch Severus was giving him was the kindest he had ever known. He could feel his will to protest slipping away. That touch was so tender and Harry was so tired. He was weary in his body, in his soul.

Perhaps this was a mistake, perhaps Snape would hate him in the morning.

But Harry found he no longer cared, and he forced these thoughts aside as he gave in to what he truly desired most.

"Do you truly love me?" he asked, horrified with how weak and small his voice was, but needing to know this was real.

"With all that I am," Severus whispered, taking Harry into his arms.

And with that touch, he found he could deny Severus nothing. He raised his arms to embrace the man in front of him fully and said, "Yes."

He could feel Severus smile against his own lips and then he was on top of Harry. Whereas before the kisses had been tentative and tender, now they were passionate and mad. Harry's cock throbbed as he felt the weight of Severus on top of him, and felt the other man's larger erection settle on top of his own.

Harry hands were on Snape's back and he began to thrust lightly, frustrated with the amount of clothing between them.

Severus came up onto his knees and pulled away from Harry. The younger man groaned at the loss of contact and tried to pull the other man back on top of him.

"Are you completely sure, Harry?"

Harry frowned. Yes, he was sure. He nodded and Severus smiled again, gathering Harry up in his arms.

And suddenly Harry found himself being almost escorted to Severus' bedroom, far too nervous to protest at his handling.

Severus carefully maneuvered him onto the bed and began to unlace his shoes, and Harry found he couldn't bring himself to care.

The room was darker than it normally was, and Harry watched as the firelight danced over the sharp features of Severus' face. He quickly realized it would be far too dark to see much of the man's body and he considered asking him to stoke the fire. But then he realized that if he could to see Severus, then he would also be able to see him. And as much as Severus had said he thought Harry beautiful, Harry knew he was not.

So he said nothing, instead choosing to enjoy the strange sight of Severus Snape sitting at his feet, untying his shoe laces. The odd picture the man made perfectly fit the strange situation he found himself in.

Severus carefully but quickly removed his shoes, then his socks, long-fingered hands running over Harry's pale feet. He felt a bit apprehensive as he really didn't think his feet said much for him, but Severus seemed to like them very much and kneaded his arch for a moment before placing a kiss on top of his foot.

Harry smiled as Severus leaned over him again and kissed him while he removed his school robe and tie, unbuttoning the top button of his shirt and kissing Harry's scrawny neck.

Harry's apprehension grew as his body was slowly revealed, but quickly forgot his hesitation and gasped as Severus began to use his tongue and lips and Harry's eyes closed of their own volition. He moaned as Severus found a sensitive spot near his ear and sucked hard. Harry's hips sought any kind of friction they could find and Severus moved his own erection over his own.

Harry quickly found he loved the feel of Severus' body on top of him. It was the most wonderful, comforting feeling he had ever known and there was nothing in Harry's memory to compare. Nothing even came close. The man's weight was perfect and warm and covered all of Harry as though enveloped by him.

Severus sat up and Harry moaned at the loss of that weight. He watched as Severus removed his own cloak, then began to work on his jacket, fingers moving swiftly over a dozen tiny buttons.

Harry leaned back and allowed the man to do this himself. As much as he truly wanted to see Severus, he could not help the nerves beginning to invade his stomach.

He wanted this man very much but... He'd never seen another man before. Not like this at least. He really shouldn't feel this apprehensive over something so ridiculous, but he couldn't help himself. Severus seemed to sense his sudden fear and stopped once his jacket had been removed.

"Harry? Are you alright?"

Harry nodded but his eyes were on the man's white shirt. He was making an absolute fool of himself and in front of Severus. He didn't want the other man to think he wasn't sure about this, that he didn't want this or didn't want him. He may not have had any experience, but he hardly wanted it so incredibly apparent in his actions.

One pale hand came to grip his chin and moved his face to meet a dark gaze.

"Have you changed your mind?"

Harry considered the question for only a moment before he had his answer. "No, but- Could we go slowly? I know it's stupid-"

Severus placed a chaste kiss on his lips and then shook his head. "Nothing you want or need is stupid, Harry. Whatever it is you desire, I will give you. Do you still want this?"

And then he was kissing Harry again, and that wonderful weight was pressing him down onto the bed.

Oh, and it was even more wonderful with less clothing between them. The heavy wool material from Severus' robes was gone and the only thing between them was two white-cotton shirts. Harry moaned as he felt his cock harden further and, realizing he did want more.

"Yes," he said again, and Severus began to unbutton his shirt.

This time Harry's desire to see more of the Potions Master overcame any apprehension as he felt his cock swell at the feel of Severus Snape tracing his collarbone with his tongue. The sensation was wonderful, but more arousing was the sight of all that dark hair as it swished lightly over his heated flesh.

Severus kissed his chest as he undid each button, his tongue lightly tracing down Harry's pale skin. He paused when he felt a tongue entering his navel, biting his lip to hold back involuntary laughter. He didn't want the Potions Master to think he wasn't taking this seriously, but couldn't help the sound that escaped at the sensation.

Severus looked up, smiling. "It's alright, Harry. I want to hear every sound you make. Every sound out of your mouth is wonderful to me."

Harry smiled and then Severus was kissing him again, his tongue running over his own in his mouth, and Harry struggled to breathe through his nostrils, not willing to let the kiss end. He vaguely heard Severus kick his shoes to the floor. Then the other man sat up on his knees, beginning to unbutton his shirt.

Harry summoned all his courage and helped the man, staring unabashedly at the pale chest that was revealed.

Severus allowed Harry to slowly peel back his shirt, kneeling confidently before him. Harry sat back on his heels as he took in the sight of the man.

He put his fingers on the man's collarbone and gently ran them over the lightly muscled chest. Severus was nearly as hairless as Harry, with only a small trail of hair starting on his stomach and leading downward. Harry touched it lightly, running his fingers through it, and he could feel the other man restraining himself so Harry could look and touch his fill.

He looked up at Severus' face and again saw the unguarded awe there. He was looking at Harry like he couldn't believe he was real.

Harry felt much the same way.

Harry placed his hands on Severus' arms, which were firm and toned but not large. He ran his fingertips down his biceps and found a scar rough to the touch. He leaned around to look at it and saw that it was red and slightly raised. Harry met Severus' eyes and placed a kiss on it, not wanting the other man to think he found his body wanting. Harry's eyes roamed over the Dark Mark, his fingers skimming it and eyes examining the details he had not noticed before.

Still Severus didn't move, continuing to allow Harry to examine his body for as long as he wanted.

It felt odd to be exploring another person's body; almost as if he were memorizing it, committing every inch of flesh to memory. If Snape decided to kick him out in the morning, at least he would have the memory of the man's body. He forced those thoughts away and concentrated on the man in front of him.

Harry had never been so conscious of even his own body before. He knew he was scrawny and short and awkward. But Severus wasn't. No, this was definitely a man he was touching. Thin, yes, but elegantly so and definitely confident in himself. Harry had never thought that he would so enjoy touching another man in the way he was, his fingers continuing their silent exploration and taking in every inch of the Potions Master's upper body.

He suddenly remembered the first time he had truly noticed anything about the man's form. He recalled the hands so elegant and slender and realized the body he was currently mapping with his fingers was just as smooth and beautiful.

Running his fingers over the man's chest, he lightly massaged Severus' nipple earning a restrained moan from the stoic man. Harry smiled and looked up, realizing that Severus wouldn't move until Harry gave him leave to.

Still smiling, Harry leaned over and pressed his own lips to Severus', initiating a kiss for the first time.

That was all it seemed to take. Severus moaned and thrust his tongue into Harry's mouth, putting a hand under his back and pushing him down on the bed.

Harry soared. The feel of flesh on flesh was wonderful. The sensation of smooth skin combined with the weight was exquisite, and Harry opened his legs, wanting to feel more of Severus.

Harry rubbed his own skin along Severus', desperate for any touch at all. He could feel his cock grow painfully hard in his pants and he moaned as he thrust himself against Severus' hips.

Severus' lips left his mouth and began to trail kisses along his chest, stopping on his nipples and flicking them with his tongue.

Harry threw back his head and moaned. He'd never realized how sensitive he was there. Suddenly the fumbled sessions with his hand seemed like nothing as Severus began to show his body pleasures he'd never known existed. He cupped the man's head with his hand, not wanting the tongue to stop licking his nipple, not wanting the pleasure to end.

Severus smiled up at Harry before moving to other side of his chest, showing equal attention to his other nipple while his right hand trailed downward.

Harry bucked into the hand that was suddenly cupping his cock, becoming completely undone. He had thought he had been hard before when he was in Severus' bathroom, stroking himself to the thought of man now in front of him. But it had been nothing compared to this. He was so hard it was nearly painful, and he gave a pain-filled groan at Severus' continued ministrations.

Sensing something was wrong, Severus looked up, searching Harry's face. "Are you alright, Harry?"

Harry nodded, unable and unwilling to discuss his current problem. Severus, however, seemed to guess, and he lightly squeezed his hand, causing Harry's cock to pulse harder.

Harry groaned again.

"Oh," he said softly. "I am sorry, Harry." Severus nuzzled his ear, sucking lightly on an earlobe before asking, "Does it hurt?" Harry could feel Severus' warm breath in his ear and he shuddered. "Is it already wet and aching?"

Harry groaned something like an affirmative response and thrust himself into Severus' hand again.

Severus smiled at him. "I will never allow you to suffer, Harry. Never." Dark eyes looked deeply into his and Severus asked, "Would you like to come now, or would you rather wait until I'm inside you?"

Harry's eyes went wide and his cock throbbed harder.

_Oh, gods._ It was miracle he hadn't come then and there.

He considered the question and tried to slow his mind down, tried to wrap his thoughts around what Severus had just said.

On some level he knew what he had come to Severus' bedroom for. He wasn't stupid, nor was he ignorant of things most young men knew at his age. He knew the mechanics involved in sex between two men, but his addled mind hadn't fully comprehended what was going to happen until that moment.

Severus was going to penetrate him. He was going to fuck him; make love to him.

It wasn't as though he valued his virginity particularly. He viewed it probably the same way any other man his age would; it was just something that was there. Perhaps Harry hadn't been quite as keen to be rid of it as every other guy he knew, but that was more due to the numb depression he had been in for two years; it was hardly connected to his body's desire at all.

All of that entered and left his mind in an instant and he realized that he very much wanted this, very much wanted to have sex with Severus.

He forced his mind back to the present, only to find Severus once again staring past him, his head tilted to the side.

Harry cupped Severus' cheek and waited for his mind to come back to him.

Severus blinked and looked down on him, suddenly looking very concerned.

The Potions Master draped his body over Harry's and waited for his answer, which Harry promptly gave. "I think I can wait until you're inside me, Severus." He said this with a smile he hoped did not betray his nervousness.

Severus seemed to see it anyway. "Harry, are you sure? Please be sure," he pleaded.

Harry nodded and kissed him, raising his hips as Severus unbuttoned his trousers and pulled them off, his pants going with them.

Harry gasped as he felt the cool air of the dungeons on his cock, making it swell even more. Severus sat back on his heels and looked down, his eyes running the length of Harry's spread body.

Harry could feel his face redden as he watched Severus look at him. He forced himself to lay still, flat on the warm bed as dark eyes devoured him inch by inch. The man's face looked taken aback and he ran his fingers over Harry's hipbones and thighs. Severus' face took on that look of awe again, the hands that were touching him reverent. Calloused, potion-stained fingers traced the soft inner parts of his thighs and spread his legs further.

Severus' eyes were on his cock, which was red and weeping, but his hands went under Harry's hips to massage his buttocks. Harry moaned, enjoying the way he was being touched. He hadn't thought he would ever enjoy that exactly.

Harry's moan seemed to snap Severus out of whatever trance he had been in, and he looked up to meet Harry's eyes. "You're exquisite, Harry." Severus knelt down and rubbed his nose up and down Harry's cock, inhaling deeply.

Harry shuddered, then opened his mouth in a silent moan as he felt a tongue lick him, starting from the base of his cock and trailing upward until he reached the head.

Harry forced himself to watch as Severus looked down on his aching, kissing the head and watching as it twitched slightly.

"Severus, I think I'm going to come if you keep doing that."

The Potions Master's eyes met Harry's and he gave the younger man a gentle smile. "We wouldn't want that, now would we?"

Harry didn't think the situation was funny in the least and took in the other man, still half-dressed. "Would you-" Harry motioned to the other man's trousers. "Please?"

Severus smiled wider. "As you wish."

Severus stood up and unbuttoned his trousers, letting them fall around his feet. Black pants quickly followed and Harry found himself staring unabashedly at Severus' erect cock.

"Oh," was all Harry could say.

He was silent for a moment. Again, Harry had realized sex would involve seeing another man's cock, but actually looking at it in the flesh was- surprising; surprising because he had never wanted a cock so badly before this moment.

He tried very hard to slow his mind down. Surely, people didn't think this much during sex.

Harry had never really considered other men's cocks. How they tasted, how they would feel if he touched them, or how they would feel if they were fucking him.

But he was considering it now. Severus' cock was a bit longer than his was, and perfectly straight. It was lighter in color too, whereas Harry's was darker and slightly curved. His hands itched to touch it, to hold it. Harry inhaled deeply, trying to imagine what the smell of Severus' cock would be like and he shuddered slowly as he realized what exactly was about to happen.

He had no doubt that Severus would be careful and not hurt him. No, if he was confident in anything it was that Severus Snape would never allow any harm to come to him, ever. But he also knew, from hearing people talk, that penetration hurt a bit the first time, and even more so for gay men.

Harry tried not to allow himself to grow nervous, but his heart sped up anyway.

He raised his eyes to meet darker ones, realizing he had been staring for some time.

Severus seemed apprehensive and looked at Harry tentatively, as though he were expecting him to change his mind.

Gathering all his courage, Harry got up onto his knees and crawled closer to Severus, who was still standing by the bed. Harry reached out and gripped Severus' cock in his hand without hesitation, surprising Severus, who had undoubtedly expected Harry to be coltish and timid.

Harry lightly stroked the cock in his hand. It was warm and hard and felt heavy in his hand. His let his thumb rub the head, smearing the pre-come dripping from the slit.

Never losing eye contact, Harry brought his hand up to his mouth and licked his thumb.

Severus moaned.

He pushed Harry back onto the bed and covered his naked body with his own.

He moaned into Severus' mouth as he kissed him, his tongue invading and caressing him. Severus began to thrust against him. The feel of other man's cock on his own was sublime and Harry again opened his legs and lifted them to wrap around Severus' thighs.

Severus drew back, breaking the kiss, and leaned over to retrieve his wand from the bedside table. Severus murmured something under his breath and his bedroom door opened, but Harry frowned as he heard the outer door to his office open as well.

"_Accio_ healing lotion," the other man said, his voice husky with lust.

_Oh_, Harry thought again, realizing what the cream was for.

After a moment, a jar landed in Severus' open palm. He opened the lid and used one finger to scoop out some of the white cream .

Then he was kissing him again.

Harry enjoyed the kiss but felt his nervousness return as strong hands parted his thighs and Severus sidled into the space between them. One long-fingered hand began to stroke his inner thigh, and Harry was shocked by his sensitivity there. Severus had already had his mouth on his cock but the fingers caressing his thighs made Harry shudder.

One hand continued its ministrations while a finger began to circle his entrance lightly.

Harry had never touched himself there before. He'd never expected it to be so pleasurable, but the light massage he was receiving from Severus proved otherwise. It felt both dirty and wildly intimate at the same time and he was surprised how much he enjoyed it.

Slowly, the finger began to enter him, and Harry fought not to react to the slight burn that accompanied it.

Severus raised his head. "Not too uncomfortable?"

Harry shook his head.

Severus smiled and then the finger was moving deeper and deeper. His other hand moved from the inside of his thigh and started stroking Harry's wilting cock back to hardness. Harry spread his thighs farther apart to allow it and concentrated on how wonderful it was to have Severus' attention solely on ensuring his pleasure.

Eventually, the finger was no longer uncomfortable, and instead of being an intrusion, it felt like something was filling him.

It pulled out and Harry allowed his body to relax for a moment. He willed himself to calm, to open for the larger intrusion that was coming but was still unprepared when two fingers entered him.

This time there was some pain along with the burn. He struggled not to grunt and show his discomfort to Severus for fear he would stop. He reminded himself this had to hurt a little and any slight pain would be worth it. He wanted Severus on top of him, inside him; wanted his hands all over him, to feel him this way.

His tried to distract himself from the discomfort in his arse, instead focussing on the warmth in Severus' eyes and the glorious sensations he was creating with twists and tugs to his cock.

Severus' fingers were invading him slowly, allowing him to adjust for which Harry was grateful. He moved the potion-stained digits in a circling motion, trying to open Harry more.

Harry smiled when an odd thought occurred to him: the fingers he was so enamored with were actually knuckle-deep inside his arse. The elegant, beautiful hands of Severus Snape were moving along his body and inside him, and Harry was overjoyed with that thought.

However, all thought was abruptly halted when an intense glow of arousal shot through his body. He moaned when Severus rubbed his fingers over what he knew was his prostate; the times he had masturbated and rubbed it through his perineum a muted pleasure compared with what Severus was doing now. Instinctively, his thighs parted and hips jerked upwards, urging the fingers in deeper.

Harry was enjoying the intrusion now. The pain became minimal and was drowned out by the pleasure Severus was giving him. Harry licked his suddenly dry lips with his tongue and Severus stilled above him. The fingers ceased moving and Severus leaned down to trace Harry's mouth with his own tongue.

He looked down on him, his face open and beautiful. Without thinking, Harry moved his hands to trace Severus' sharp cheek bones, and he leaned into the touch.

Suddenly, dark eyes fixed on him and Severus looked at him with renewed seriousness.

"Harry, are you sure you want this, want me?"

Harry thought it an odd question to be asking when he had his fingers up his arse, but nodded. "Yes," he said, moving his head up to pull Severus down in a kiss. He bemoaned the loss of the hand on his cock as Severus was forced to balance his weight on it, but it was worth it to feel those lips on him again.

Severus moaned and pulled back. The long fingers pulled out of his arse and Harry felt odd without them. He watched with fascination as Severus took some of the cream and coated his long, red cock with it.

Severus stretched out, aligning his body over Harry's, and kissed him briefly before sitting back again and saying, "Bend your legs up to your chest, Harry."

Harry did as he was asked, pulling his legs back so his arse was tilted up, his knees bent with Severus kneeling in between them. Harry quickly found his calves pushed towards his chest and spread wide and he had never felt as exposed as he did in that moment.

The way their bodies were intertwined was an incredible sight and Harry willed himself to keep his eyes open as he felt the head of Severus' cock nudge at his entrance.

Suddenly, Severus looked up at him again. "This is forever, Harry. Be completely sure because I will not let you go after this."

Harry shuddered and moved his hips, loving the feel of Severus' cock threatening to enter him. As much as he wanted to believe Snape would want him after this, he dared not expect it. "God, I hope not."

Severus looked confused but smiled and lightly thrust his hips.

This time there was definite pain.

Harry gritted his teeth and tried to hide his grimace as Severus pushed slowly, petting his hips and whispering soothing words to distract from the pain.

"Shh, I know. It will only hurt for a moment, I promise." He kissed Harry's eyelids, and Harry opened them- he hadn't even realized he'd closed them. He took deep breaths and tried to concentrate on Severus; the way Severus' face was twisted in ecstasy and determination, the way he could still make out the pale body in the low light. Harry willed his mind to slow down and try to enjoy what was happening and not concentrate on the ache.

Harry panted and focused on the feeling of true wonder at being physically connected with the man inside him.

The very realization of it was overwhelming. Severus was inside him and suddenly he felt the desire to speak it aloud.

"You're inside me," he said, realizing he sounded ridiculous even as the words escaped his mouth.

Severus smiled, kissed his chest, and began to move. Harry gritted his teeth against the pain of each slow thrust. He attempted to open himself wider, to allow his body to relax more to the intrusion, and found the pain was less pronounced. Severus canted his hips upwards and Harry felt that same surge of stimulation. The burn lessened and the pleasure increased.

Harry moaned as Severus' cock continued to hit that same spot, and he kept his hips as still as possible to encourage it. Severus was thrusting into him at a slow and steady pace, allowing Harry to become used to the sensation, to gain as much pleasure as he could from this first time. Harry wanted to share the emotion he felt and met Severus' eyes so he would see the wonder in his own.

Dark eyes were focused completely on him, looking on him with equal parts concern and desire. Harry smiled and wrapped his arms around Severus' back, embracing him in some attempt to communicate that he did want this, that he wanted him.

Severus moaned, seeming to receive the message, his thrusts coming faster and more hurriedly. Harry moaned, loving the way Severus' cock was making him feel. He gave into the mindless sensation of Severus driving into him.

Severus moved back, spreading his knees wide either side of Harry's bottom and picking up his hips. He began to thrust into him deeper, harder. Harry was surprised to find that the pain was nearly gone; all that was left was pleasure. The feel of being connected with the man he wanted so much, was overwhelming, and Harry grabbed hold of Severus harder, trying to tell the other man how much he loved what he was doing to him.

Harry's dug his fingers into the flesh of Severus' back in an attempt to steady himself, as the man was now thrusting into him wildly. Severus moaned and moved a hand between them, the long fingers holding Harry tightly and stroking in time to the furious thrusts.

Sweat began to drip from Severus' brow and onto Harry, and he found his own body slick as he continued to try to grab hold of the other man, desperate not to let go.

Harry felt the pleasure mount inside him and he willed himself not to close his eyes; he wanted to remember this, wanted to watch Severus' face as he came. He could feel Severus' hand pulling on his cock, and Harry gave himself over to the sensation. The feel of that beautiful hand gripping him combined with the pleasure of having Severus inside him had Harry coming in pulses as Severus milked the shaft. He moaned as he felt his own muscles contract around the cock inside him and he watched as Severus' face twisted and he thrust almost violently into Harry, clutching the younger man as he came.

Harry was panting and unwilling to let Severus go just yet. He could feel as Severus' softening cock slipped out of him and he moaned at the sudden discomfort he felt. His muscles were aching and his arse felt like it was on fire but Harry had never felt so whole, so loved and cared for.

He'd just had sex with Severus Snape, Harry realized. He was in love with Severus and he was loved in return. He smiled to himself and pushed away the thought of what had instigated this union, willing himself to enjoy this moment.

Severus sank down from his kneeling position, nearly collapsing on top of Harry. Harry caught him, wrapping his arms around him tenderly and moving him to his side, wincing at the sudden movement.

Severus looked up immediately through sweaty strands of black hair and took in Harry's pained expression. He rolled onto his side, tucked close against Harry and looked carefully at the exhausted face. Strong arms came around Harry's body and picked him up, cradling him against a firm, smooth chest.

"Are you alright?"

Harry was still trying to catch his breath, but he laughed at this. "Alright? Yeah, are you?" The haze of desire slowly seeping from his mind, Harry realized with a start that Severus was still under the influence of the potion and leaned away to look at him, trying to see if anything was different. "Do you feel alright? Is there anything you need?"

Severus laughed softly and pulled Harry to rest against his chest again. Harry quickly found he was completely exhausted, and allowed himself to be held. He knew he had to think about what had just happened; that there were likely to be consequences. But he was unwilling to think of them just now. Right now, all he wanted was to enjoy the man lying next to him.

"Always so noble, my Harry."

Harry felt sleep beginning to overtake him, but rallied enough to say, "Someone has to take care of you too, you know?"

Harry could have sworn he felt Severus smile against his forehead. "Yes," he said, softly. "We'll take care of each other, Harry." He kissed his forehead. "Some things are meant to be."

**********************

Severus smiled against Harry's forehead and kissed him softly through the fringe of his hair.

His Harry. His own.

Severus still could not believe his good fortune. How incredible lucky he was for Fate to bestow such a wonderful gift upon him. He held Harry tighter, wanting to savor this moment for just a bit longer before he would have to complete his task.

Again, he heard the soft voices in his ear and he subconsciously tilted his head again, straining to hear them better. They had been speaking to him, telling him to hurry his and Harry's coupling, telling him that it had to be done now.

But Severus had ignored them for as long as possible. He knew he would never force anything, especially not himself, on Harry and would have never forgiven himself if he had frightened his young lover.

Severus smiled to himself. Yes, he thought. He loved. And how amazing that simple fact was on its own. But to have Harry want him in return was nothing short of miraculous. The voices had told him Harry wanted him, that all he needed to do was ask and he would have the young object of his affections all to himself, his own.

But he had waited; he had explained what he wanted to Harry and his patience had been rewarded. He had wanted Harry to choose him, he didn't want to bully the younger man into being with him simply because it was fated to be. Severus wanted it to be Harry's choice.

He would never be separated from Harry now. No, once he had completed his objective, they would never be without each other again.

Severus picked up his wand from the nightstand, opened the doors to his chambers once again and summoned an empty vial. As much as he wanted to simply luxuriate in bed, holding his lover in his arms, there was still work to be done.

The vial connected with his hand and he put down his wand. He positioned a hand between himself and a sleeping Harry, careful not to jostle the young man too much lest he wake from his sleep. He took in his softly snoring lover and smiled, kissing his cheek. No, the young man in his arms was exhausted from their recent efforts and Severus wanted nothing more than for him to rest.

He let his hand drift over Harry's nearly hairless stomach, finding his semen and scooping up what he could and placing it in the vial. Then he very carefully maneuvered his hand towards Harry's arse, which he knew would be sensitive to the touch. Harry whimpered as Severus lightly touched the outside of his anus, gathering the bit of semen that had collected there and placing it too into the vial.

He kissed Harry's face and held him for a moment, being very careful not to spill the vial with its precious ingredients.

Harry quickly stilled and fell back into a deep sleep once again. Severus moved away from him, wrapping him in blankets to keep him warm until he returned.

Quickly, he slipped on his robes and shoes, then silently went through his rooms and office and into his private lab.

The voices were back now.

Yes, he had recognized those voices. How could he not?

He had heard them before on the night he had heard the prophecy, and the day Lupin had been present in his labs. But at the moment he had no idea why he had been so wary of Fate before. He could not fathom why he had so adamantly denied his feelings for Harry, denied the fact that some things were meant to be.

He stood at one of the tall tables in his private lab and allowed himself to see what was truly happening, what had been happening and what had led them here with unclouded vision.

All his denials had been for nothing, he realized. It had been as though he had forced blinders onto himself to deny what had been so very obvious since the beginning of this mad affair. It was as though he stood at the precipice of a mountain he had been struggling to scale his entire life, and only now could he see the raw truth.

He, Severus, had to be the one to take the prophecy to Tom Riddle. No one else would have been so affected by the death of Lily Potter. No other would have sworn vengeance, nor sought so hard to obtain absolution. Above all, no other would have sworn to protect Harry with their very life.

Ronald Weasley had been fated to die. Had he not died, Severus would never have been able to confide in Harry when on the train, would never have been able to talk to him and comfort him, to tell the young man how incredibly similar they truly were. Harry had to know it was Severus who had been responsible for his parents' deaths, he'd had to know it was Fate that brought him to that lowest of points.

And just as Fate had maneuvered Severus, it had moved Harry to rescue him from being tortured at Riddle Manor. Tom Riddle had been Occluding Harry for over a year. There was now no doubt in Severus' mind that Harry had been meant to have that vision, had been destined to rescue him and be with him in his altered state in the infirmary.

Severus could even recall Harry telling him of how Fate had intervened and had him shake the hand of his enemy in the name of saving Severus. He could see it clearly now- how every step had brought them closer to this point.

Now, after all his denial, after futilely shaking his fist at the sky to gods that hadn't any intention to listen, he was here at this place.

With Harry.

The voices told him what needed to be gathered to make the potion and how it needed to be prepared. It was a very simple potion, and wouldn't take very long to complete, which made Severus happy. He wanted to get back to Harry before he woke.

He would see to it that Harry would never again wake up alone.

Severus quickly chopped the gathered ingredients, allowing the voices to guide him through every stage.

Clockwise, then counterclockwise, Severus stirred and added the ingredients to the cauldron. Then time came to add his and Harry's seed. He took special care during this step, knowing that adding it even a moment too soon would render the potion ineffective.

The last ingredient was added and the potion turned a lovely blue color, its smell sweet. Severus allowed himself to think it was because of Harry.

The voices assured him his task was nearly complete and that all he needed to do now was speak the incantation that would bind Harry and himself together forever.

Severus raised his wand and thought of how glad he was Harry had said yes. He had been so apprehensive when he had seen that Harry was unsure. He knew that this was necessary; that this was needed in order to protect Harry.

But he had needed Harry's resolve to be firm and so he had asked him repeatedly if this was what he truly wanted.

This was for life, after all.

It was Fate that made Harry come to him, Fate that Severus would love him and protect him. And yes, Harry would love and protect him also but that was not the most important aspect.

No, Harry would now be Severus' bonded and he would always know when Harry needed him.

He smiled to himself and whispered the activation spell.

A feeling of contentment such as he had never known filled him, and he was almost overcome. Severus gasped as the bonding took effect. In that instant, it was as though he could feel Harry all around him, inside of him. It was as though he knew everything about the young man. It was the most intimate moment of his life and Severus found it ironic that Harry was not even in the room.

The moment vanished but Harry remained. Severus closed his eyes and he could feel the presence of the younger man there, inside him.

Harry was at rest, content and happy. Severus smiled and opened his eyes, finding that the potion had vanished upon completion of the spell.

The voices in Severus ear told him his task was complete and that he could rest for now. Severus left all his equipment where it was, desperate to return to Harry. He inwardly rejoiced at being able to feel Harry's presence surrounding him, penetrating him, wrapping around him like the most comforting of blankets. But his own needs were not as important. It was the fact Harry would be able to feel his affections in return that warmed Severus' heart.

Severus returned to his bedroom and found Harry lying exactly as he had left him. Quickly shedding shoes and robes, he slipped back into the warm bed and gathered a still sleeping Harry in his arms once again.

Harry smiled in his sleep and grabbed hold of Severus.

This had been fated to happen. Harry was his now, Severus thought happily. Only death would separate them.

Some things were meant to be.

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Author's notes: Eternal thanks to WhiteCotton who held my hand through this first slash scene. If you enjoyed it at all then it's due to her help. Thank you so much, darling.

This chapter was the original plot bunny for this fic. It's been on my mind constantly, wanting to be read since August of last year. Now it's here. It was also the second chapter to ever be written. The next chapter was the first. Please review and let me know what you thought as I've put much of myself into this story.

If anyone would like to discuss or ask questions about this chapter, I welcome you to find me on the Snarry discussion group Severus Sighs, a yahoo group. Also, the slash scene was trimmed down so as not to offend or get myself booted. If you would like to see the full version, again, find me on Severus Sighs.

I thank you all.

-- snow


	21. Silence in Heaven for Half an Hour

Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling. I do not own Harry Potter or his world.

Warnings: This story is slash, meaning a romantic and sexual relationship between two males. Please consider every chapter to be rated M as I will not warn you when slash scenes are coming.

A/N: Thank you to all who reviewed the last chapter! I had an excellent birthday in lovely Austin and returned to so many wonderful reviews.

Also, everyone should know by now that I put my heart and soul into this story. Every review is wonderful to me as well as my beta. Thank you all for letting me know your thoughts on the last chapter. As I mentioned before, this is actually the first chapter ever written. Please let me know your thoughts, as it is very special to me.

Thanks to Torina, as always, for a beta during a very busy semester. Laurenke1 is my lovely plot beta. Thanks also to WhiteCotton and thesewarmstars for looking over my grammar. As always, if you have any comments or would like to discuss the story, you can find me at the yahoo group Severus Sighs.

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Revelations 8:1 When he opened the seventh seal, there was silence in heaven for about half an hour.

-

High above the dungeons, Albus Dumbledore was reading correspondence from an Order operative within the Ministry when a disturbance in the wards startled him from his thoughts.

He was surprised, but made quick work to close his eyes and allow the castle's wards to tell him what had provoked the alarm.

_There_.

Dark magic was being performed... in the dungeons.

_Dear Merlin._

Something must have happened to Severus. There could be no other explanation since he was confident that there was no chance of his friend practicing dark magic within Hogwarts' hallowed halls.

Quickly he ran tests and charms that allowed him to see if the Floo Network had been compromised, if the gates were intact, if there was dark magic being performed elsewhere in the school.

No. Everything was perfectly still, which only served to confuse Dumbledore more. The wards were still in place and the Floo had not been tampered with.

There was only the disturbance in the dungeons.

His inquiries took only moments before he was on his feet and at the hearth more quickly than any man his age had any right to be. Swiftly, he grabbed a handful of Floo Powder that was sitting in its ornate jar on the mantel, called out, 'Severus Snape's quarters,' and made to leap in-

Only to find the way blocked.

Severus had blocked the Floo? He muttered the headmaster's override password, which he knew Severus had no knowledge of, and repeated his destination only to find it blocked still.

An awful feeling began to grow in the back of his mind, but he ignored it. As headmaster, he had the authority to enter any area of the castle. There should be no way of barring him from entering any room.

He threw off his confusion; there was nothing for it. Calling out the address for the Floo in the Entrance Hall, he threw the powder into the fire and successfully traveled several floors down.

He stepped out of the fireplace gracefully and turned to go down to the dungeons, only to find Draco Malfoy ascending the staircase with parchment in hand. The boy looked upset and was acting quite out of character, with his face pointed downward and his eyes on the floor.

This could be no coincidence, Dumbledore realized. Whatever was happening to Severus must be the result of whatever the student in front of him had attempted. Draco had finally played his hand and something must have gone horribly wrong for the boy to look so sullen. The headmaster moved to stand in front of a visibly downtrodden Draco. When the boy finally noticed him he looked up, startled.

_For all his arrogance, still just a boy_, Dumbledore thought. His eyes dark and steel in his tone, he addressed the younger man. "It is a bit late in the afternoon to be keeping up with correspondence, isn't it, Mr. Malfoy? Tell me, my boy, what is so important that it could not wait until morning?"

Draco drew in on himself for a moment before that aristocratic chin popped up and he looked on Dumbledore with cold, gray eyes. "Well, Headmaster, I thought my father would want to be informed that his old friend is down in the dungeons fucking the Boy Who Lived."

Dumbledore felt the dread that had been growing for the past few minutes spread over his entire body. He schooled his face to impassivity that would have rivaled his Potions Master's and muttered _Expecto Patronum_. A wispy, silver phoenix leapt from his wand and began looking for Dementors. Finding none, it awaited his instructions.

"Go to Professor McGonagall. Tell her to meet me in the Entrance Hall as soon as possible," Dumbledore said quietly but firmly, then watched as the patronus flew off towards Gryffindor Tower.

Dumbledore was left face to face with his student; a student who had finally acted on his desires, and likely resorted to extreme measures in whatever he had just done to Severus. His current demeanor suggested he had failed, and now he appeared to be intent only on revenge- and cementing Severus' murder at the hands of Voldemort.

_Another student beyond saving_, Dumbledore thought as he readied himself to address the youngest Malfoy. He briefly recalled Lucius and his own fall to darkness and sighed. While the Malfoys may have been a family that had always treaded the dark path, he had hoped that Draco might have been the exception. He truly had wished he could have stopped Draco before he had been able to fulfill whatever awful thing he had planned; for the boy's sake as well as Severus'.

He forced himself to change his perspective; to replace in his mind the cocky first year he had known with one of the enemy's soldiers.

"I assume, Draco, that you know exactly what would happen to Professor Snape when your father received that letter? You knew whom your father would rush to inform?"

Draco looked Dumbledore steadily in the eye and responded, "Yes, sir." He appeared resigned to his fate and did not seem to hold anything back in his confession. "He deserves to die for picking that scrawny little half-blood over me. I would have given anything to have him, but he didn't even look at me. All he could do was rush to that attention-seeking little bastard."

Dumbledore's eyes grew darker and he drew himself up to his full height. In his most demanding voice he asked, "Draco, tell me, what did you do? What spell did you use?" If there was some way he could get to Severus quickly enough, perhaps he would be able to reverse the damage.

"Anima Munio, Professor," Draco sneered with what could have been pain or malice. "The potion led him to Potter. He didn't even glance my way."

**********

Minerva arrived shortly after Draco's revelation.

"Minerva," he said, pulling her aside while keeping a firm grip on Draco's arm. "I need you to keep Draco in a private room. Block the Floo, confiscate his wand, and call Kingsley to guard him." His gaze brooked no argument as he looked into his deputy's eyes gravely. "He cannot be allowed to communicate with anyone in or outside of the castle. I will come when I can."

She began to question him, her expression outwardly stern though her eyes betrayed her anxiousness.

"Albus, what..."

He shook his head firmly and she seemed to understand the silent order. She nodded and pulled out her wand, pointing it at Draco. The young man reluctantly gave her his own and they walked away from the dungeon staircase.

As he watched the two make their way to one of the higher towers, Dumbledore paused.

Anima Munio, he thought, would not be considered dark magic. It was old and obscure, but it would not be considered dark by the castle's wards.

However, if Draco had somehow managed to administer it to Severus...

Dumbledore carefully weighed what he deduced from Draco with the wards still issuing their silent screams in his mind.

The Anima Munio potion wasn't dark. It was a potion that provoked choice, a potion that brought out the needs, desires and inner knowledge of a wizard's being to the forefront of his mind. If the potion brought Severus to perform dark magic, perhaps he shouldn't interfere. Perhaps he should allow whatever was happening to happen.

He knew that Severus cared for Harry, if not for the boy personally then because of his love for Harry's mother and his need to atone for his sins against her. No, Dumbledore knew without doubt that his friend would never harm Harry.

Perhaps he should allow-

_No_, he thought. _You've meddled too much in the boy's life already._

He knew the truth, though he was loath to admit it even to himself. He knew that his past interference had profoundly affected Harry's life, and rarely for the better. And he had promised himself and Harry that he would no longer keep the boy in the dark, as he had been wont to do in the past.

No, he thought, bringing a hand up to massage his temples. No, he could not do that to Harry. His honor won out, as he realized that Harry was an adult now.

_Puppetmaster_, the Headmaster thought sadly. Severus had called him that once. He hoped that all his meddling would someday be justified.

He descended the staircase that led to the dungeons quickly before finally arriving at the classroom, the wards still issuing the silent alarm that dark magic was being performed. He unwarded the door and made to open it.

It would not budge.

He performed the unlocking charm that would open any door in Hogwarts; spells only the headmaster had the knowledge and power to wield.

Still the door would not open.

Confused and worried, he finally raised his wand to blast the door open, but before he could open his mouth he felt a tremor run through his wand and his body. He blinked his eyes and when he opened them, the door had changed.

The door, which before had been made of English oak, had become something like marble, but black as night. He was extremely alarmed now, his breath coming in pants and his heart racing. He looked around and found himself no longer in the familiar dungeon hallway, but in a white room with a ceiling so high he could not see the end of it and walls so white and one-dimensional he could not determine if he was standing in a room the size of a closet or the Quidditch Pitch.

He was certainly not new to Hogwarts' mischief; an incident involving chamber pots at four o'clock in the morning suddenly coming to mind. As he sought to wrap his mind around where Hogwarts had taken him, a chill suddenly ran down his back.

He closed his eyes and reached out to feel the wards.

Nothing.

He lifted his wand and tried to cast yet another unlocking spell on the door.

Nothing.

His inability to perform magic was the thing that pushed his worry into panic. He recognized quite suddenly that he was no longer in the dungeons, no longer in Hogwarts. _Dear Merlin, where am I and what is happening?_

_At long last_, whispered a voice in his ear. Dumbledore turned, but could see no one else in the fathomless room.

_Quiet_, said a second, harsher sounding voice. _Perhaps we should allow him to reason all of this on his own. He thinks himself clever enough._

Dumbledore turned and attempted to investigate his surroundings once more, but found himself looking at the same sterile white walls that he had been looking at moments before.

He turned back so only the black door was apparent before him. He slowly made to open it again.

This time it gave.

_Ah! It finally discovered how to open a door_, the crass voice spoke again.

_There is no reason to attack him. We've only to stop him from interrupting the bonding. There is no need for such dramatics_, a softer-sounding voice whispered.

_After all we have done, he dares attempt to halt our plans! He seeks to circumvent our will, and everything we have worked for,_ the harsh voice whispered, almost violently. _ Why would he attempt to stop what he himself has worked so hard to attain? _

Dumbledore heard all this and shuddered. When he had first heard the wards issue their alarm, he had known that something dire was about to happen. Now a new reality began to settle on his consciousness, and he began to understand that something of earth-shattering importance was about to take place. He had been prepared for an attack from Voldemort, an epic battle; but not this. He was no coward, but his hand remained still on the handle of the door, refusing to pull it open.

If he stayed here, he would learn nothing of what was happening. But if he opened the door...

He steeled himself and pushed back a fear that was threatening to overtake him; fear that he had not felt for years.

He opened the door.

**********************

He felt more than heard it being shut behind him. What lay ahead of him was nothing.

Only darkness.

There was no sound. He heard no noise as his feet hit the ground, or any echo of his steps as he entered a tepid and stagnant room.

His eyes were straining, trying to adjust to the absence of light so he could make out something, anything in all the darkness.

A pleasant sounding voice broke the silence suddenly. "Albus Dumbledore," it whispered in greeting. "We've been waiting a very long time to meet with you."

His vision blurred. He squinted as his eyes adjusted to the faint light penetrating the darkness. He could make out shadowed figures but no solid forms, almost as if his eyes were unwilling to focus. He moved his gaze elsewhere and realized his sight remained unaffected. There about fifteen feet in front of him was solid rock, and as he moved his gaze upward he could see shadowed figures high up on a stone pedestal. He likened the structure to one similar to a high court, and his eyes widened as he realized the figures themselves were without form.

Taking in his surroundings, he saw that he appeared to be on a mountaintop where the landscape plateaued. It was nighttime. He looked up and noticed the stars above him were not familiar at all. He drew in a gasped breath as he looked closer.

The sky looked so much larger here. He could see stars, yes, but further inspection revealed more stars than he had seen even on the clearest of nights. He felt dwarfed, the sky seeming to reach on forever. It was as if this little piece of mountain were the only land to be seen and the rest was all sky. There was no way it could be real; human eyes could not behold something so grand and magnificent. It occurred to him that the beings in front of him must have been allowing him to see this.

"Yes, your predecessors were amazed at this as well," the pleasant voice spoke again.

He looked up at the unknown beings that were addressing him, trying to discern who or what they were. The only thing he knew for certain was that he was in the presence of something powerful.

"Good evening, and please forgive..."

The harsh, crass voice he had previously heard interrupted him with a dark chuckle. He turned his gaze to the shadowy figure that he thought the malice had come from and found only undefined smoke.

He had experienced enough in his long life that he had not known real terror in a very long time. But as an icy chill crept across his neck, he recognized the feeling of true fear that comes with encountering the unknown. For the first time in decades he found himself completely lost, with no idea of what was expected of him or how to prepare himself.

Realizing he was at these beings' mercy, he inclined his head and addressed them again.

"Greetings," he said in a firm, but polite voice. "May I be so bold as to ask whom I am addressing and where I have been brought?" he asked, attempting to be both friendly and respectful at the same time.

"Finally," the angry voice spat. "For a moment, we thought your good manners and desire to grovel would rule over your own humanity. There is a difference between rudeness and self-preservation, Dumbledore."

"Now, now. This is not our purpose. Let's not dawdle," the kinder voice interjected.

"Yes, he did make an inquiry. Several, in fact," uttered a very gentle sounding voice. "And we have no reason to avoid answering such simple questions."

Dumbledore felt himself relax slightly at the sound of the pleasant voice. He cleared his mind and forced himself to listen.

"You ask where you are." There was a pause before the voice continued. "You are nowhere. This place is not real. If it can be called anything, call it the Void. Time and space do not exist here. Your magic, the laws of physics, anything that possesses any realm of reality for you does not exist here. Even your eyes betray you."

Suddenly a hand of black smoke extended and waved through the air. "You see us as shadows and smoke because your mind cannot process our reality."

Dumbledore attempted to push aside the fact that he was in some mythical place in order to concentrate on what was being said to him. He knew it would be all too easy to allow himself to marvel at the mere fact that he was here, in the presence of these beings at all. He could not allow himself the luxury of distraction.

The being continued speaking. "Now, as to whom you are speaking. We are beings who, from the beginning of humanity, have watched humankind and helped them to prosper and grow. We have prevented you from destroying yourselves time and time again. It would appear that every few hundred years or so, humanity grows a desire to cut off its own head. Simply put, we are the guardians of men and seek to prevent their destruction," the gentle voice spoke.

Dumbledore's mind reeled. The voice paused as if it sensed his need for his thoughts to catch up with what he was hearing. What exactly was he in the presence of?

"Am I to understand that I am in the presence of the gods?" Dumbledore asked, his voice quiet and reverent.

The dark laughter returned. It sounded harsh and snide, and sent a chill up Dumbledore's spine.

"Gods? Yes, you could call us gods. Humankind has given us many names over the millennia: gods, the Furies, the Elders. The names have changed, but we remain. We do not put much importance on names. However, since you seem to be so terribly concerned about calling things by their proper names," the voice paused for a moment, before continuing, "then consider yourself to be in the presence of Fate."

Dumbledore was speechless, his mind recalling all the stories of old; all the tales of wizardom and Muggle religions. He had believed in Fate of some sort, but he had never truly understood the concept of what he was seeing right before his eyes. Fate was speaking to him, had called on him. But why was this happening now? He forced his mind back to where it had been, with Severus and Harry who were-

"Now your last question, 'what is this?'" the harsh voice broke through his thoughts. "You are one of only a handful of men whom we have ever deigned to allow in our presence. The course of human events has been difficult and broken. As we said before, humanity seems set on its own destruction. We have intervened several times in the past, always when we saw a diversion in the road with two possible paths leading to two very different futures."

Dumbledore felt a thrill of excitement as he took in what the voice had just said. "You know what will happen in the war against Voldemort?" he asked, his mind beginning to focus on what he hoped was the true reason he had been brought here.

"Understand this, Dumbledore: we do not interfere in the normal course of human existence. Not every man has a Fate or a Destiny," a mild voice spoke.

Dumbledore's brow furrowed at this. Not every man had a destiny?

"Is it so hard to wrap your mind around, old man?" that hard voice spoke again. "Do you really think the course of humanity would be affected if a man wants nothing more than to own his own shop, have a wife and children, live a completely normal life and die a completely normal death? Do you really think we would interfere? Do you think we care?"

"Of course, we care," said the gentle voice. It continued, "We care, but we do not interfere where we are not needed. Largely, men make their own destiny. Free will is essentially what separates men from animals." The voice said this last kindly, and for the first time Dumbledore thought it possible that he was speaking to a benevolent deity. "They make their own course, good or bad, and live their lives by it. We do not interfere; we only observe."

"Yes, until a few of you get delusions of grandeur and try to destroy the rest," the snide voice sneered. "It is human fear and arrogance that brings us here to this place time and time again."

Dumbledore was shocked. "How many times have you brought someone before you in this manner?"

"That does not concern you; however, think on your history. Do you think genocide is something new? Do men excel in accepting those who are different from themselves? Are they generous and giving in their lands and fortunes?" the voice spat. "There is always some reason. Naming the names of a few would diminish the sins of the hundreds of others who worked so hard to earn their place in infamy!"

Dumbledore nodded. He was well versed in both Muggle and wizard history. Sadism and genocide were nothing new. The fact that he was here at all, however, proved that there was hope.

It had been a very long time since he'd had to address anyone with such humility. He thought how best to start his plea, then began. "Please," he said, "why have you brought me here? What is happening in the dungeons? Can anything be done to stop Tom Riddle? In all my plans-"

He was interrupted by the snide tones yet again. "Yes, Dumbledore, we have watched your machinations and planning, the way you've been manipulating men and women for years, always for the good of the cause."

"This is not what we are here for," the kind, gentle voice spoke up in defense. "What had to happen has happened. Dumbledore did what he had to do to see that all of this came to pass. There is no reason to discuss that which is obvious."

Dumbledore frowned, confused at what the voice was saying, but brushed it aside. It would not do to become distracted when he knew deep in the dungeons something was happening between Severus and Harry.

"Please," he pleaded again. "Please tell me what exactly is happening now, particularly what is happening in the dungeons of Hogwarts between Severus and Harry. And what could I have done to bring this about?" Dumbledore inquired.

The silence in the Void had never seemed greater than during the pause that came after his question and before harsh-sounding laughter echoed in response. A feeling of absolute dread filled his stomach as the voice began to speak. "Please do not attempt to pretend ignorance. You knew exactly what needed to be done to ensure Harry Potter grew up in the way that was needed. Perhaps you did not foresee this exact event, but you realized something had to happen in order for Harry Potter to defeat Tom Riddle. You set these events in motion, but apparently lack the will to see to their completion. You saw to their beginning and now we are here to see that it reaches their fullest potential."

"Please," Dumbledore said a third time, taking a step toward the raised stone. "Please, what is happening? What has to happen?" He had not pleaded this way in years. Not since-

"At the moment, chopping and dicing," the snide voice said with a laugh.

"There is no reason to torture him," chided the gentle voice. After a moment it continued. "At this very moment Severus Snape is brewing a potion, which he will use to bind himself to Harry Potter." The voice said this plainly, and as though they were having a conversation about far more pleasant things.

"A bonding potion?" Dumbledore asked, his voice low.

"Yes."

Dumbledore's frown deepened. There were so many different forms of bonding potions... "May I ask what manner of bonding potion he is brewing?"

"He wants to know if the Malfoy boy was telling the truth," the snide voice seemed to snicker.

"Silence," said a firm, but kind voice that had been silent until now. The voice almost seemed to sigh before it began speaking again.

"Albus," it said, and Dumbledore rose an eyebrow at finally being addressed by his given name. It brought with it a feeling of familiarity he was surprised to find he desperately needed at the moment. "Albus, you truly are blind."

His eyebrows lifted. "I beg your-"

"Your Potions Master has been in love with your boy-hero for months. In all your cleverness and feigned omniscience, you never once saw it."

Dumbledore opened his mouth to protest, to say there was no possible way that was true. His jaw snapped shut as scenes from the past few months began running through his mind.

He thought of the way Severus had allowed Harry to stay with him in the infirmary; the way he had never complained that the boy was always underfoot; the way he had allowed Harry to help him; the way he had allowed Harry to live with him for the entire summer.

But surely that was only friendship, he thought. Friendship and Severus' continual desire for atonement, he corrected himself.

"But surely Harry-"

"Harry Potter, aside from being the most clueless boy in Britain, is in love with him as well. Whether he realizes this now or not is another story," the voice said, stern but not unkind. "The bond between them will be strong, born out of love and the desire to protect and care for each other; specifically, for Severus Snape to protect Harry Potter, in all things and in all ways."

Dumbledore's mind was reeling. "The bond- that is to say- will it be-"

"Is it reversible? No. The strongest bonds are not, and you no doubt understand that this must be a strong bond."

Dumbledore shook his head. "But why? Why do this to a seventeen-year-old boy? And why did it have to be done so underhandedly? Why use Draco Malfoy at all?"

The voices seemed to laugh a bit amongst themselves. There was a pause before the snide voice spoke again.

"We use whatever players and pieces we can, when we can, much like yourself. Draco Malfoy's obsession with Severus Snape was a very convenient tool. It did not fall into place smoothly, no. There was a moment when it seemed all would fall apart simply because Harry Potter is a sentimental fool and was about to refuse Draco Malfoy's hand in friendship."

"Yes, we had to intervene there. And we so hate blatant intervention," said the pleasant voice.

Dumbledore sputtered. He began to put the pieces together in his head. The events of the summer suddenly became clear. "But why? Please, why must this happen? The potion that Draco used on Severus-"

"Because they have no choice in the matter, you foolish man," the smoky figure spat. "Free will does exist; however, some things are meant to be."

"Albus," the kind voice spoke again, "your friend Severus has been in love with Harry for months. Did you ever once guess?"

Albus shook his head and could only answer, "No."

"We thought not. Do you think that Severus would ever have acted on it? Do you think he would ever have laid a hand on the boy had we not intervened?"

Dumbledore could only shake his head. No, his friend's guilt was vast and he knew Severus viewed his life as an eternal attempt at absolution. He had never forgiven himself his past sins. He had never taken a lover because he could not bring himself to burden another with such grief.

"But Harry-" It suddenly occurred to Dumbledore that Severus would never have taken Harry against his will. A light went on in his head as something suddenly occurred to him. "Harry would never do this to Severus! Not while under the influence of a potion. It's dubious to say the least."

All of the voices fell silent, save one derisive string of laughter.

"You would judge Harry Potter, Dumbledore? You would begrudge him the fact that he is human?"

Dumbledore frowned. Being human meant being able to control your actions, your desires. He had told Harry several times in the past that it was one's choices that revealed what one truly was. He knew Harry to be a brave and honorable young man; a young man who would never take advantage of a friend.

"Was he influenced by theAnimo Munio potion as well?" he asked, thinking this to be the only explanation.

"No," the malicious voice said. "He was not."

Dumbledore's mind reeled again. "Then why would he agree to this?"

"Several reasons, Dumbledore, each more _human_ than the last." The word human was spat out almost as a curse word. "Knowing Harry Potter's history, knowing all of his trials and his grief, would you really begrudge him this? Would you truly judge a moment of weakness?"

Dumbledore couldn't bring himself to fathom what the voice was saying. "Why did it have to be this way? Why trick them if they both love each other?"

"Because Severus Snape would never have agreed to it, you stupid man!" the crass voice roared. "And as for Potter... would you really expect him to push away something he has always wanted? Especially offered to him by the one he loves?"

"Yes!" Dumbledore shouted. "Yes, I would expect him to do the right thing! He has always done the right thing. There must have been something... Something Severus did or said to convince him, but..."

"But you know Severus Snape would do nothing to force him," said the pleasant voice.

"Yes," he said, deflated.

"Dumbledore," that snide voice spoke again. "What if we were to tell you that Draco Malfoy is lost? That there is no saving him, that he is already too set in his ways. His father has shaped him from the time he was born and there will be no redemption for him. Knowing this, if we offered you something you wanted, would you give him over to Riddle?"

"I beg your pardon?" Dumbledore said, blinking. He had no idea how the conversation had gone so off-course.

"Would you give up the youngest Malfoy, give up one of your students to his father who will surely destroy him, if we offered you something you desired?"

Dumbledore didn't even have to think twice. "No," he said. "Never. Not even if he is lost."

The voices were silent for a moment before the harsh one spoke again. "What if we offered to bring... _him_ back to you."

Dumbledore frowned again. Of whom was he speaking? "I don't understand," he said.

"You know the one of whom we speak. The one you try not to think about as your head hits your pillow each night. The one for whom your heart has longed for nearly fifty years. What if we said we could bring him back to you, as he was, in exchange for the Malfoy boy?"

Dumbledore's heart nearly stopped. His body stood shock-still and his mind nearly shut down. That old pain that always lingered near the surface, the pain he forced away at odd hours of the day, suddenly sprang to life in a way it hadn't in years.

"Is that possible?" he whispered.

The voice laughed maliciously. "No, that's not possible. If we could do that, why would we need to interfere in human events?"

The voices murmured amongst themselves for a few moments, and Dumbledore felt his heart breaking.

"We say this to make you understand," the voice continued. "Even good men have their limits. Harry Potter took what was offered to him. Even you, with your incredible integrity, would be hard pressed to push away the man you loved as he confessed his undying devotion to you."

Dumbledore pushed aside his heartache in a practiced move. There was no reason to be so cruel, no reason to mock him so; tease him with possibilities only to yank them away.

"Do you understand now, Albus?" asked the patient voice.

"No," he said in a deadly whisper. "No, I do not understand. Why does this have to happen?"

"It had to happen, Albus. And it had to be not only a bond, but _this_ bond."

Dumbledore no more understood that statement now than when it had first been uttered. "But why? Why this type of bond?"

There was a pause. Not only among the shadowy figures but also in the heavens above. He had known he was in a void before, but now Dumbledore actually felt it.

The pleasant sounding voice spoke again, "We are not completely omniscient. We do not know the distant future, but we can see the near. If the bonding of Harry Potter and Severus Snape does not occur, they will both die by Tom Riddle's hand, and soon. You will die shortly after. When you fall, the wizarding world will fall and the Muggle world with it. We cannot allow that to occur."

Another benign male voice said, "Your future is literally on the edge of a precipice. If we had not interfered today, then darkness would have taken over quickly.

"Tom Riddle must die. He threatens humanity's continued existence simply by living. He has already broken the most universal of laws- he has disfigured the human soul."

Dumbledore was very glad to hear it was fated that Voldemort would die, but he failed to understand why it had to be done in this manner. Of all the different forms of magic, why this bond; and why formed in such an underhanded way?

"But why now and why this way? You talk about choice and free will and yet you would take it away from the both of them."

"Choice?" the snide voice seethed, "You would dare speak of choice in the matter of these two? You, who worked your will with both of them so that their lives are irrevocably tainted by your manipulations."

"Now, now," the pleasant voice interrupted. "Albus has only done what he was taught to do. None of this would be possible if not for him. It is not his fault if he cannot see his own involvement."

Dumbledore's brow furrowed again. Perhaps he had affected Harry's life before, but not this time. He had no hand in this thing.

"Perhaps it is not his fault, but he must be made to understand the need for this. We will need him to help see this through," said the snide voice.

Dumbledore wanted to interrupt, but found himself enthralled by the conversation taking place in front of him. It had been ages since someone had spoken of him as though he were not present.

"I think you fail to understand the situation that these two men are in, Dumbledore." The snide voice was speaking to him again. "Perhaps we should show you what your old, knowledgeable eyes have thus far failed to see."

The landscape changed and he was no longer on the mountainside.

He was in a dark house. It was small and smelt of rotted food and decay, as though someone had died in one of its rooms and they had yet to air it out. There were torn, dark drapes over two small windows and the paint on the door was peeling. A bookshelf had tumbled over onto its side and the sofa's cushions were faded and lopsided.

Suddenly, he heard a whimper; a small, heart-wrenching sound coming from behind the sofa. He knew that sound all too well from his years with working with children. It was the sound of a child crying in lonely agony.

He moved around the tattered couch and saw a crumpled figure huddled in the corner.

The boy seemed small. His hair was dirty and disheveled, like he hadn't bathed or brushed it in weeks. His clothes were torn and several sizes too large. He could see a bony shoulder where his shirtsleeve had slipped down his arm. He was in his stocking feet and his socks had holes in them. He had his head on his knees and his arms around his shins, rocking himself back and forth.

It was Harry Potter.

Dumbledore was only able to recognize him by the scar peaking through the messy hair. The rest was a gross exaggeration, some parody of what Harry truly was. Though he doubted the situation, he could not ignore a child who was in pain in front of him.

He acted quickly, still unsure if this was real or some cruel joke. He crouched before the frightened boy, "Harry," he quietly addressed the shaking boy. "It's the headmaster, Harry."

The boy didn't seem to hear him, and curled in on himself even further. Dumbledore tried another approach, laying his hands on the boy's shoulders and shaking him gently. "It's Dumbledore, Harry. You're alright. No one is going to hurt you."

The boy screamed. He put his hands on his head and fell over onto the dirty floor, wrapping himself into a ball.

"He's not used to being touched in kindness, you see." Dumbledore could hear the kinder voice's whisper but could not see it. "After his care at the Dursleys', it's no surprise that he's afraid of touch. The last person who held him with love has been dead for over a year. You can't blame him for his hopelessness. He had no one else, you see. Or he had no one until your Potions Master arrived."

Dumbledore shook his head. Harry had never been this way, not even after Sirius had died. "This can't be true. This isn't possible. This," he gestured to the shaking boy on the floor, "is not Harry Potter. Harry Potter is one of the fiercest boys I've ever known."

"Yes, he is fierce and he is strong. He had to be. But that does not mean that he did not suffer. It was something that you were only too glad to ignore, even when Snape brought it to your attention. The abuse-"

For the first time, Dumbledore cut off the voice. "There was no abuse in that house!" He put his hand over his face, turning away from the image of the screaming boy. "Nothing happened in that place that Harry could not stand."

"Yes," the harsh voice said quietly. "You are correct, Dumbledore. There was nothing in that house that the boy could not stand. Yes, that is true. You did your job well, making sure not to allow Potter to suffer more than he could bear."

Dumbledore's eyes narrowed as he took in the thinly veiled accusation from the voice. "I do not understand. I know that Harry was a bit depressed after Sirius died, but not to this extent. And Severus helped. I saw it with my own eyes."

"Ah, yes. Severus," the voice said cooly. "For a moment, we thought you had forgotten about him completely." And with that, Severus Snape walked into the room.

But this was not Severus Snape, Head of Slytherin, heroic spy and misanthropic school teacher; this man looked beaten down and trodden upon by life. His robes, which were usually immaculate, were burned and stained. His hair, greasier than usual, fell in strips down his face, which was so pale and thin he could see the man's cheekbones sticking out. He walked slowly as if pulled down by a heavy weight.

"Severus?"

Severus turned toward him and Dumbledore could see he was bleeding. Severus held his hand over his chest but Dumbledore could see the blood that poured from an open wound and onto his friend's pale fingers.

"Headmaster, there's a fire in the other room. I have to find something with which to put it out. Have you seen the salt shaker?"

Dumbledore was startled at how confused the other man looked. And why was he asking for a salt shaker? A bucket of water, sand, or even a heavy blanket would be a better choice for putting out a fire.

"A salt shaker, Severus?"

"No? Perhaps I can try spitting on it."

Dumbledore approached his wounded friend. "Severus, you're injured. If there's a fire, I will put it out. Please, sit down."

Severus didn't appear to hear him. His mind was already on another task.

"Yes, you do that, headmaster. Meanwhile, there's a dragon in the parlor. I'm going to go fight it with a butter knife. Seems the only thing to do, really."

Dumbledore grabbed Severus and forced him to sit down. The man fell upon the couch, his shoulders slumped. His face was pale and Dumbledore attempted to move the blood-stained hand in order to assess the damage.

Severus was moving to face Dumbledore when he suddenly seemed to register the whimpering coming from behind the sofa. Severus' eyes went wide and he rose from his position on the couch, ignoring the headmaster's protests.

Dumbledore watched as Severus took in the shaking boy, still screaming his rage.

"He's been like this for so long now. I think it started when the Diggory boy died." Severus' tone was uncharacteristically quiet as he spoke of Harry. "It only grew when Black fell through the veil. He was so lost with no one at all to care for him. And then when Weasley died..." Severus trailed off, staring at the pitiful figure.

Dumbledore was startled by this. Surely that couldn't be true. The Dursleys may not have loved him but the Weasleys did as well as his friends and Remus Lupin. He himself truly cared for the boy as well.

"Yes," the snide voice seemed to come from behind him, "but what is love without kindness? What is love if one never shows it? What is love if the voice says 'I love you' but the hand comes to slap you in the face?"

"Nonsense," Dumbledore protested. "Harry has had love in his life. His character attests to it."

"Yes, that is true. He had just enough love in his life for him to thirst for it; enough loneliness to make way for desire, but not enough to cause despair. Yes, you did your job well, Dumbledore."

That was the second time the voices had spoken of him in this way. Dumbledore turned his head to address the voice, but was distracted by Severus.

Severus had moved to the floor to comfort the boy. Harry looked up at Dumbledore, still not recognizing him. But when he saw Severus, he nearly jumped to embrace him. Severus moved his body around Harry's and seemed to be trying to cover every inch of him. Harry began to cry, returning the embrace fully.

"Shh," Snape whispered. "Yes, I know. I understand. I know. Please, don't cry. Shh," the man said as he continued to comfort the boy.

"He is so much older than him. I know that it wouldn't matter in a few years, but now..." Dumbledore addressed Fate.

The sneering voice reappeared with full force. "Neither of the men before you have ever really been _boys_." The word 'boys' was hissed, as if the teeth that the voices did not have were clenched. "Neither of them truly ever had a childhood, their youths fraught with loneliness and agony. But the worst of these things is their hopelessness. If we had allowed them to descend into hopelessness, the war would have been lost and Tom Riddle the victor."

"I still fail to see why their binding together is beneficial. You have not explained it to me."

"Why do you require an explanation of the bonding when it would not have been possible without you?" the snide voice began, but the kinder one interrupted.

"Harry Potter needs someone who will protect him, yes. That was most important. But almost equally important is for him to have someone who understands him, someone who can love him the way he needs to be loved. Severus Snape is a good man, and his life's experiences are similar to Harry's own. He has ties to Tom Riddle. He's brave and courageous and self-sacrificing. And though he's only begun to see it, he already loves Harry Potter very much. He needs to love him, and be loved by him, just as much as Harry does. These two men will be the ones to bring down Tom Riddle. You will have your part, but these men will strike the killing blow. Together, sharing their power, they are so much stronger than they are individually. Together, Tom Riddle cannot stand against them."

The sudden knowledge came to Dumbledore and he nodded slowly. Yes, he could see Fate's point. He might not be happy with how they had gone about it, but it made sense to him. He was overjoyed to know that these two could bring about the fall of Voldemort.

"Thank you," he said simply, still taking in the scene of his Potions Master trying to wrap himself around the Boy Who Lived.

He leaned back and watched as Severus suddenly made a stiff movement, then laid Harry down on the floor before picking himself up.

"Severus?" Harry asked, his body still shaking from his sobbing.

"I'm being called, Harry." Dumbledore watched silently as Severus walked from behind the sofa towards the door, still battered and bloodied.

Harry rose from his place on the floor. "Called? You mean you're going back there? Now?"

Severus nodded and grabbed Harry's shoulders, steering him to sit on the sofa. Dumbledore merely watched as the scene played out.

"I have to go, Harry."

Harry tried to get up, but Severus was holding him still. "What? Why? You can't go back there. He'll kill you! You need to stay here with me, please!"

Severus shook his head and turned away from Harry. "I have to go back there for you, Harry. Always for you." And with that he turned and walked out the door.

Dumbledore turned towards Harry, who looked so lost and small sitting on the dirty sofa.

"I don't understand," Dumbledore said to no one. "Why did he leave Harry if he loves him as much as you claim he does?"

"The only thing that could possibly rival Severus' love for Harry is his desire for atonement. His determination to punish himself for his past sins is the thing that will keep them apart. What he doesn't realize is that his service as a spy for your Order is finished. His place is no longer behind enemy lines; it's standing by Harry Potter's side.

"Be forewarned, Albus- Severus will not settle into this bond quickly. There is a reason he needed to be drugged for the bonding to take place. He must bond with Harry, yes, but he must also be with Harry if any of this is to work."

Dumbledore shook his head. "I cannot force them. Especially not Severus."

"Still up on your high horse, Dumbledore? You have never shied away from manipulations, why start now?" the harsh voice answered back. Dumbledore had a vague understanding of what the voices were hinting at, but he ignored it. What he had done was no worse than what Fate was doing now.

"Tell me, Dumbledore, are you ever lonely in your tower? Do you ever tire of moving chess pieces around? Do you think they ever stop to wonder exactly how much of their upbringing you had a hand in?" the voice taunted Dumbledore.

Dumbledore turned to face it. He had never had to explain himself, ever. His decisions had been his own and though there might have been a few protests, they had been quickly silenced. He knew that what he had done had been right; had been necessary.

"Everything I did, I did for a reason. My knowledge was limited but my actions were was necessary. Decisions had to be made."

"Ah, finally. Still dancing around it, but at least we've arrived at the pertinent subject. Tell us, Dumbledore, why did you leave Harry Potter at the Dursleys'?"

This question, at least, Dumbledore could answer. He'd been asked this so many times over the past sixteen years, he had his answer down to perfection. "The blood wards surrounding the house gave Harry and his family protection from Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Removing him from that house would have put him in mortal danger."

"Ah," the voice said, "but what about Hogwarts? The school is a castle and a stronghold in its own right. Remus Lupin or any wizard or witch willing could have raised him in comfort and loved him like a child needs to be loved and he would have still been safe."

Dumbledore's eyes narrowed. The sobbing figure on the sofa faded away, as did the filthy house in which they had been standing. Just as the door to the potions lab had transformed in an instant, so was Dumbledore taken back to the mountain to face Fate high in their seats.

"Give the true reason for once in this topic, Dumbledore. You've been giving half-truths and variations on this theme for years. Every time you were asked about the boy you gave the same stock answer."

Humbled, Dumbledore spoke in a small voice. If he was finally being called forth to answer for his actions, then so be it. "Yes. I did what needed to be done." He paused, realizing now that they were judging actions that had brought him nothing but guilt and sleepless nights.

"Do you think it gave me joy to do what I did?" he said angrily. "You claim to have some omniscience, so you must know how I hated the decision, how much it pained me? Even as I carried out the plan, there was no love in my heart for it."

"Lies and distraction," said the cruel voice. It cut through Dumbledore and he found himself blasted open in a way he had not been in decades. "You are not finished yet, Dumbledore. There is still work that needs to be done. If you are to help Severus Snape and Harry Potter, you must see the influence of your own hand in this. If only to us, say it just this once."

"Damn you," he whispered. He nearly expected to be struck down for that utterance but the beings in front of him were silent, awaiting his answer.

His shoulders slumped and he felt every one of his years weigh down on him. He wanted nothing more than to lower his head in shame, but he did not. He was in no way proud of what he had done, but that did not mean it had not been necessary. These beings, above any, should understand.

"He needed to be made strong," he said simply. "Harry has been our one hope from the time he was born. There was no other way." He said this softly, his voice uncharacteristically weak. "I could not afford to send him to some wizarding family that would only coddle him and treat him like a prince. I needed to make him resilient. I needed to make sure he could endure all that he would have to endure. He was a child! He is still a child. Any other child would have broken if he were made to suffer even half of what Harry has had to suffer."

Dumbledore paused, shaken to the core. The guilt of what he had done had weighed down on him nearly all of Harry's life. To finally speak of it gave him such a sense of relief it felt like a sin. It shouldn't feel so good to confess such a horrible truth.

"I knew his life would be hard. I knew what he would have to endure. I couldn't do it myself; I could never treat him that way, I cared for the boy too much." After a sigh he continued. "So I sent him to people who I knew held no love for him because of who he was. I needed him to know what it is to resist and fight from the very beginning. I couldn't have taught him that. Strength of character can't be taught from the front of a classroom. It's life's experiences and choices that made him strong."

"Ah," said the cruel voice. "Now, at last we get to the truth of the matter. You thought yourself so very wise then? You knew what was good for the child and so you carried out a plan of your own devising. You risked his mind and his body in the hope that it would help him grow, make him strong?"

"Yes, Merlin save me," Dumbledore confessed. "I did what I thought was best, not only for Harry, but for us all, so we could all have a chance at surviving this war."

There was a pregnant pause in which the voices were silent to the old man, but seemed somehow to be conferring amongst themselves. He wondered if they did argue amongst themselves or if they were somehow one entity, one single being. They seemed to have different characteristics and personalities, but that could be solely for his own benefit.

He stood silently as they conferred amongst themselves, as though he was waiting to be judged.

Suddenly, the snide voice spoke again. "Did you ever wonder why it was you, Dumbledore, who was sent to defeat the dark wizard Grindelwald?"

Dumbledore was struck dumb both at the swift change of topic and at the mention of his only lover's name. Images of the battle that were ingrained in his memory flashed through his mind and he fought to keep them away. He stood still as he braced himself, transfixed, to listen to what the voices were telling him.

"Are you so arrogant or can your primitive mind not wrap itself around the idea that perhaps as you have groomed others you were groomed as well?" the voice snapped.

"We are not omniscient, but we can see ahead. We needed Harry Potter to be strong, yes. So we chose you, Albus," the kind voice said. "You were already a strong wizard, but only a certain kind of man can make the difficult decisions we required you to make. Any other wizard would have sent Harry Potter to some loving wizarding home, and then where would we be?"

The old wizard was breathless and struck dumb. He felt his eyes tear as he fought to blink and to breathe, so disturbed that he found these basic bodily functions a challenge. Never before had he been so incensed...

"Great leader of wizards. The leader of the resistance against the greatest dark wizard the world has ever seen," the voice snarled. "With all that power, did you really think we would leave your life to chance? Did you never see a parallel with your own life to that of your young charge? Are you truly that slow, or like so many old, _wise_ men did you forget that you were ever that young?"

The tone in which the voice had spoken the last made it evident what he thought of men who fancied themselves wise.

Questions that had plagued his mind for decades were answered. His head reeled and he felt as if he were swaying in the wind, but knew for a fact that there was no breeze in the void.

"But," he rebelled, "I..."

"Yes, we know exactly what he was to you. We know exactly what it cost you to do what was required. We know how you've chosen to live your life alone and celibate because you could not spend it with him. It was the ultimate endurance test and gravest of challenges. And you've surpassed all our expectations, young man."

Albus felt a long shudder go through his body. He hadn't been called a young man in years.

"We needed you to be strong, Albus," said the kind voice. "It's not every man who can do what you did to Harry Potter. Most would have done as you feared- they would have loved him and hidden him away, treated him like any ordinary boy.

"But you did as we required of you. You placed him in a home where he would be neglected and unloved. You made sure he would be tested; made sure he would become strong.

"You yourself became strong, Albus. Strong enough to do what needed to be done. Strong enough to lead a school of young, impressionable children; strong enough to be a leader of men and strong enough to lead an order of wizards and witches to their deaths, if need be. Strong enough to work to destroy the greatest threat the world has ever known.

"After everything we have done to arrive here, after everything you have done- we will not have you fail now."

He stood rigidly in front of them, failing to keep the overwhelming grief from showing itself on his face. He had been a fool to think he could change his ways after all this time. If nothing else, he would spare Harry and Severus this heartache. He would help them, as Fate had asked. He could see now that some things were meant to be.

"Yes, boy," Fate said as one. "Yes."


	22. The Little Foxes

Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling and I make no money from this story.

Warnings: Again, assume every chapter is not safe for work. Also, as it says in the original disclaimer I have used some of Dumbledore and Snape's background from canon. Kind of picking and choosing.

Author's Notes: Thank you so much for all your reviews. I've received several excellent criticisms as well as lovely compliments. I'm just so glad that you seem to be enjoying the story. Once again, thanks to Laurenke1 for a nice read through. thesewarmstars and WhiteCotton did an excellent job on grammar and Torina held the plot together. Thank you all so much. As always, if you'd like to discuss the story you can find me on the yahoo group Severus Sighs.

Geheald us Hal means 'keep us safe' in Gaelic. Thanks for thesewarmstars for the translation.

* * *

_Take us the foxes, the little foxes, that spoil the vines: for our vines have tender grapes. Song of Solomon 2:15_

_-_

It was dark.

Harry sat crossed-legged on a cold stone floor with no knowledge as to how long he had been sitting there. His body was stiff from the cold, and he thought he must still be in the dungeons. If there was a hearth in the room, the fire had long since gone out.

He raised his hand to his face and adjusted his glasses, as though it were simply his vision that was at fault, not the darkness of the room. He put his arms around himself and shivered, feeling the little hairs on his flesh stand on end.

If the lights were to come on, Harry was sure he'd be able to see his breath.

He looked around hoping his eyes would eventually adjust to the darkness, but they didn't. The darkness was absolute, and though Harry was tempted to stand, the stiffness of his muscles and the terror that was quickly overwhelming him prevented him from doing so.

He remained sitting on the cold stone floor, his fear paralyzing him and preventing him from standing and finding a way out of this place.

A sudden noise came from out of the darkness, and Harry tensed, his body waiting for something to happen.

"Is someone there?" he called out, his voice wavering. He unfolded his arms and shivered, his eyes straining to make out what was before him. He forced his fear down and reached blindly out into the darkness, trying to use touch where his sight had failed him.

His hands encountered something soft.

"Lumos," a familiar-sounding voice called out, and Harry blinked, quickly covering his eyes with his arm.

Confused and still a bit frightened, he squinted as his vision adjusted to the light, and he attempted to look at the person in front of him. The figure was silhouetted by the light and it took his eyes a few moments to adjust and make out the person who was blinding him.

"Ron?" Harry asked, confused yet relieved to see his friend's freckled face illuminated by the wandlight. "Ron, what is this place? What's happening?" Harry asked, his voice rapidly growing more frantic as his shock abated and the eeriness of the situation came back to him.

Ron just looked at him, sadness etched onto his face, a pity he had never shown Harry in life painted across his features. Harry reached out to touch his friend, needing proof that he wasn't alone; wanting to know that Ron was truly there. Seeing Harry move towards him Ron backed away, apparently unwilling to allow Harry to touch him.

The relief at seeing his friend quickly vanished, and the terror returned twice what it had been before. What was happening?

"Ron, please! What's happening? Why is it so dark?"

Ron smiled sadly at Harry and averted his eyes, the light of his wand waning in the darkness. Harry waited, unsure why his friend was so upset. Finally, Ron looked up at Harry and squared his shoulders. Silence hung in the air between them as Ron looked sympathetically at Harry, who had never seen his blue eyes look so sad.

"Harry, in the beginning... it's always dark."

Harry opened his eyes.

The first thing he became aware of as he woke was that he was home. He smiled and burrowed farther into his bony pillow, taking a deep breath and inhaling the familiar scent that had come to mean home to him. It smelled like potions and the dungeons and Snape.

The second thing he became aware of was that his pillow was actually a very thin shoulder, and Harry smiled, memories of the previous evening still hazy in his mind.

He lifted up his head slowly, narrowly missing butting his cheek against Severus' nose. The other man was still asleep, his arm thrown around Harry and their legs entwined. Harry's smile widened and he wrapped himself around Severus further, memories of the previous night floating through his mind.

Quite suddenly, Harry stiffened as he recalled exactly how he had arrived in this situation with Severus in the first place.

_Oh, God. What have I done?_

Everything that had happened came back to him in a flash: Malfoy, the decoy parchment, everything Severus had told him while under the influence of the potion, the way they had touched each other and the feeling of Severus' body over his...

_Oh, God. The potion! _Harry attempted to stamp down his overwhelming fear and hysteria and fought to control his breathing, afraid to wake Severus.

Malfoy had finally gotten to Severus, and instead of protecting him and taking him to Dumbledore straight away, Harry had allowed himself to be taken in by the man's drug-induced promises. Harry closed his eyes and burrowed farther into the body below him, cursing himself for his stupidity.

He'd slept with Severus while he was under the influence of a potion! He had been the magical equivalent of drunk, and Harry had allowed himself to believe every word that had come out of Severus' mouth. How could Harry have believed that he loved him?

He cursed himself as he recognized the truth- that he'd believed because he had wanted to believe Severus loved him; that the man wanted to be with him, had forgiven him for his utter stupidity of a week ago.

Harry had known it couldn't be true at the time, but in his selfishness and stupidity he'd ignored it. He'd allowed himself to believe all the pretty lies that Severus had told him, and proceeded to take advantage of the man.

If he hadn't altogether ruined their tentative friendship last week, Harry had surely done so now. A suffocating feeling of guilt and shame came over him, and he lowered his head farther into the space between Severus' neck and shoulder. Harry felt miserable and ashamed of himself, and however good Severus' skin felt against his own, he knew he couldn't take comfort from the man he had betrayed.

Reluctantly, Harry removed his head from Severus' warmth.

He had to get out of here. He didn't deserve this, didn't deserve to be in bed with the man he'd taken advantage of. He briefly considered waking Severus to apologize, but then thought better of it. Harry had violated his trust, his body, when he had promised to protect him the same way he had protected Harry. Harry knew that he should have turned Severus away. There was no excuse for his actions. No amount of longing or desire for forgiveness could make up for what he had done.

Severus had given him so much and Harry had thrown all of that away.

Harry slowly got out of bed, not wanting to wake Severus. He inched his leg out from underneath the longer, paler one and lifted Severus' arm until it was no longer covering his body.

Sitting up in bed, Harry belatedly realized that this was the first time he had ever slept naked before, let alone naked with another person. His upper body felt cold, and he found that the fire had long since gone out and it was only his and Severus' body heat that had kept the chill from the sheets.

It was difficult to make out Severus' face in the darkness of the room, but Harry took a moment to look. It had been a very long time since he had been able to study the man while he was asleep, the last time he had allowed himself to do this had been under very different circumstances. He looked at Severus' pale hand lying on top of the covers and recalled the night Severus had almost died, all because he had protected Harry.

Harry grew suddenly bold and slipped his hand over Severus', interlacing their fingers. He looked up at Severus' face again and couldn't help but notice how peaceful and content he looked as he slept.

Perhaps he was still under the influence of the potion, Harry thought, abruptly realizing that he needed to remove himself from this situation as quickly as possible.

Even though he understood that he had been completely in the wrong, he couldn't help but feel his heart break as he began to rise from the bed, memories from yesterday assaulting his senses. How Severus told him that he loved him, that he had loved him for months. How Severus had been so passionate and loving toward him and promised him a home.

Harry cursed himself inwardly. He really was as stupid as Severus thought.

He sat on the edge of the bed and leaned over to pick up his trousers and shirt. He quickly dressed, then stoked the fire with his wand so Severus wouldn't get cold. Then he leaned over the bed and kissed Severus lightly on the lips.

Severus inhaled deeply and smiled, wrapping himself further into the blanket. Harry looked down on Severus as though he would never see him again, and in a way, Harry thought, he wouldn't. He'd never see the inside of this bedroom again, nor Severus' chambers. Not after what he had done.

He slipped his feet inside his shoes and walked quietly to the door.

Once he was inside Severus' sitting room, an odd sensation crept over him.

Harry took a few steps towards the sofa before he stopped and forced himself to take stock of the emotions swirling through his mind.

He closed his eyes then opened them to find he was still alone in the sitting room, and yet...

It felt as if Severus was standing right beside him.

He turned around, terrified that the man had woken up and would start throwing accusations at him at any moment.

Nothing. Harry was alone in the room.

He closed his eyes again, intrigued at whatever this was. He couldn't place how he could feel Severus. He took stock of his senses and realized he could neither see, hear, touch, taste nor feel Severus. And yet he was here, all around him. The feel of the other man was an almost tangible thing, and Harry was sure he could reach out and touch him if only...

_Oh, God! Oh, fucking hell, dear God in heaven..._

_What have I done? _

What potion had Malfoy used? In their eagerness to get to bed, Harry had never bothered to find out. What had been done to them?

Harry ran a hand through his hair as he began to panic. His mind began to recall all the dark potions found in the _Darkest Bonds_ book Malfoy had read over the summer. So many of the bonds in that book were completed through sex, a fact that had Harry appalled when he had originally skimmed it.

_What the fuck was I thinking?_

He closed his eyes and it was as though he could sense Severus right next to him, inside of him. Somehow he knew that Severus was all right, that he was warm and that he was happy. Things he had thought he had known by looking at the man in bed were actually coming from...

_Oh, God. What have I done?_

No longer caring how much noise he made, Harry swiftly crossed the room to the door that led to Severus' private lab and office, breaking into a run as he neared the Potions classroom.

His bag was still where he had left it yesterday. His eyes trailed to the area near Severus' desk and he found the broken bottle that Malfoy had used to drug Severus still lying on the floor. He considering collecting it, but knew that the smartest thing to do was what he should have done from the beginning. He crossed the classroom and flung open the door-

Only to find the man he was looking for sleeping in a straight-backed chair in the middle of the hallway on the other side.

Harry ran from the doorway and wasted no time in waking him. "Headmaster," he said, shaking his shoulder. "Headmaster, please-"

Dumbledore woke quickly, adjusting his glasses on his nose and sitting up straight in his chair. "Harry? Oh, dear..."

Harry ignored the headmaster as his blue eyes ran over his face, no doubt seeing he was collapsing into hysterics. Instead, he rushed to tell Dumbledore what had happened.

"Headmaster, something's happened. I- I don't know exactly, but- but something-" Harry was trying to get the words out, but they wouldn't come. He knew he was panicking. He was speaking far too loudly, and he felt as though he couldn't breathe.

_What have I done?_

"It's alright, Harry. Everything is going to be fine," the headmaster said softly, laying a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Let's go into Severus' office and we can talk. Is he awake yet?"

Harry's mind spun. What did Dumbledore mean everything was going to be fine? And how had he known that they had been asleep in the first place?

_Oh, God,_ he thought. The part of Harry's brain that was still functioning recognized Dumbledore had been sleeping in a chair right outside the Potions classroom, presumably all night. How had he known to be here, that something was happening? Had the castle alerted him that one of its professors was having sex with a student?

_Fuck! _Harry thought, rubbing his temples in alarm. He was going to have to tell Dumbledore that he'd had sex with Severus. There was no way around it; how else would he get the help they so desperately needed?

"Headmaster-" Harry started his confession, but he was cut off.

"Not here, Harry. Let's go inside and get you and nice cup of tea. That should ease your nerves."

Ease his nerves? "Headmaster, you don't understand-"

"Not here, Harry," Dumbledore said in a firm, yet kind tone as he ushered Harry inside the Potions classroom and warded the door behind them.

Harry allowed himself to be led, his thoughts a jumble in his mind. He'd have to tell Dumbledore everything that had happened in order for the man to help them. Severus would get into all kinds of trouble...

_What have I done?_

Harry put his hands over his face in agony, his palms covering his eyes underneath his glasses, causing them to fall to the floor. He thought he might have made some sort of moaning sound, but couldn't be sure. He heard Dumbledore walk over to the other side of the room and open a cabinet, then walk back towards him.

"Harry," a soft voice said.

Harry let down his hands and opened his eyes. With his blurred vision, he could see Dumbledore was offering him his glasses in one hand and a potion with the other.

"It's a calming potion, Harry."

Harry shook his head, taking his glasses and putting them back on his face. No, he didn't want to be calm right now. He didn't deserve to be calm right now. He deserved to feel every ounce of dismay, every twinge of guilt that was currently running through his body.

"Harry, we're going to need to have a conversation now, and I will need you to be a part of it. I truly do need you to take this potion," Dumbledore said calmly.

Harry shook his head again. "No," he whispered. "No potions."

Dumbledore sighed and looked at Harry with a sad smile. "Things are not as bad as they seem. Nothing awful has happened, I assure you. Don't you want to know what Severus did last night?"

Harry blinked and looked up. "What _Severus_ did?"

Dumbledore nodded, then offered the potion yet again. Harry looked at it warily.

"Harry, are you aware of Severus at this moment?" Dumbledore asked in a knowing tone.

Harry took a step back, realizing Dumbledore wasn't really asking a question. How had he known that?

"You are, aren't you, Harry?" Dumbledore asked, though he seemed to know the answer already.

Harry closed his eyes again. Severus was still asleep, but no longer as soundly. Though Harry couldn't explain how, he knew Severus was waking.

"Severus can feel you the same way you can feel Severus. Do you want him to feel your fear? Do you wish to cause him discomfort?"

Harry shook his head, still not understanding what had happened. How was all this possible and what had Severus done?

"Take the potion, Harry."

Harry took the small bottle from Dumbledore's hand and gulped it down. He felt his agitation calm immediately, though the guilt and worry did not abate.

"Let's go into Severus' office now, shall we?" Dumbledore asked kindly. Harry allowed himself to be led once more as they went through the door and into the office that was so familiar to Harry. He looked around the room and tried to banish the images of Occlumency and Defense lessons that came to mind, his anguish over what he had done to Severus cutting into him like a knife.

Dumbledore ushered him into a chair facing Severus' desk and took the seat next to him, turning it to face Harry.

"May I have tea for three, please?" he asked into thin air, and Harry's eyes went wide.

For three? "You're not going to-"

"Yes, Harry," Dumbledore said, as the tea tray popped into existence. "Severus is going to be a part of this conversation, but first I wish to speak to the two of you separately."

Harry felt his entire body shake, and he ran a hand through his hair again as he took in the headmaster's words. Right now, he wanted to sink into the ground and never see anyone again. The idea of facing the man he had betrayed was terrifying.

"Harry, before we talk about the events of last night, there is something I need you to understand," Dumbledore said, taking a sip of his tea.

Harry looked over to the headmaster and waited for him to begin berating him for the awful thing he had done. He expected to be asked exactly what had he had been thinking sleeping with a teacher, or what he had expected to happen once Malfoy had used a dark potion on Severus.

"No, Headmaster, _you_ don't understand. I- I've done something terrible," Harry said in a miserable voice.

Dumbledore shook his head. "No, Harry. Nothing sinister has happened. There is nothing you have done that cannot be forgiven. Everything will be alright."

Harry shook his head frantically, as though he was incapable of speech and had to resort to gestures. "No, you don't understand. I- I slept with Severus while he was-"

"Under the influence of a potion. Yes, I know. Apparently that was the only way all of this could come to fruition," Dumbledore said with a wave of his hand, as though he were discussing the weather.

Harry's frantic thoughts tried to pick up exactly what Dumbledore was saying. There was only one thing that stuck out in his mind presently. "What do you mean 'this?' Only way for what to come to fruition?"

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and took another sip of his tea. "Harry, do you recall what Severus told you about the book Draco found during the summer?"

Harry's breath caught in his throat. Oh, God, what awful thing had Malfoy done to them?

"Wha- What did he do?" Harry asked, his teeth clenched. Whatever Malfoy had done, Harry had aided him through his actions, and the thought nearly crippled him. "What did Malfoy _do_?! Oh, God, it wasn't that awful slavery thing-"

"Harry," Dumbledore said, abandoning his tea cup to Severus' desk. "Harry, listen to me. Nothing terrible has happened, I assure you. I was merely wondering if you recall what Severus said about the bonds themselves. How some of them were considered dark simply because they did not require consent to be enacted. Do you remember Severus explaining that to you?"

Harry tried to remember that conversation, he truly did, but all he could recall were the terrible spells in that book. The potions that would enslave one wizard to another, ones that would force a wizard under the other's thrall. His mind wandered over all the awful things that Malfoy could have done to them.

"Harry!" Dumbledore shouted, bringing Harry back to the present. "Harry, please! Do you need another potion?"

Harry shook his head.

"Draco has nothing to do with the bond that exists between you and Severus now," Dumbledore said, attempting to meet Harry's eyes.

"Bond?" Harry asked, still not understanding. "What bond?"

Dumbledore sighed. "The potion that Draco administered to Severus allowed him to see what his soul truly needed, truly desired. Severus loves you very much, Harry, and wants only to keep you safe."

Harry buried his face into his hands and shuddered. He tried to pull himself together, tried to listen to what Dumbledore was telling him, but he was overwhelmed.

Severus didn't love him anymore than he did his father before him. His betrayal had been a far greater sin than any of the childish pranks his father had played. Those superficial stunts might have humiliated Severus, but that was nothing compared to Harry's violation. His body began to shake as his anguish overcame him and he wept tears of remorse.

"Harry," Dumbledore said as he placed a hand on his back. "Harry, please calm down. Nothing terrible has happened. I promise, all of this is only for good. It will all work out in the end, but you must calm down. Surely, you don't wish for Severus-"

Harry lifted his head as he felt an array of emotions that were not his own assail his senses.

_Fear._

_Uncertainty._

_Protectiveness._

Harry closed his eyes and attempted to make sense of what he was feeling. There was no sense to his confusion, he realized; the sensations were all Severus. It was as though he could feel the man all around him, inside of him, as his emotions ran through Harry.

Before he had sensed Severus was asleep and well: an all-encompassing yet nonintrusive presence in his mind.

Now, as he closed his eyes and attempted to feel Severus again, it was as though the man was looking directly at him. In an instant, Harry knew that Severus had woken and could feel everything Harry felt.

"Oh, God. I think he's awake," he said.

Dumbledore frowned. "I had hoped to be able to speak with you a bit more before attending to Severus' needs, but this night has been full of surprises, to say the least."

Harry had to force back the urge to grab onto Dumbledore's robes and beg him not to leave. He was fairly sure Severus wouldn't kill him if the headmaster was present.

Suddenly, a terrible feeling came over him. He could feel an overwhelming sense of guilt cover him, as corporeal as a suffocating blanket, but under that was intense love and devotion. The conflicting emotions only served to confuse Harry further.

"I will return soon, Harry, and then we will have that discussion. In the meantime, I'd like you to sit and try to remain calm. Remember that Severus can feel everything you are feeling. Try to think of him and how he would feel knowing you are frightened."

Harry sat in shock as Dumbledore quickly opened the door to enter the sitting room- just far enough so that Harry could look directly into the eyes of a horrified Severus Snape.

***********************

Severus rolled over onto his stomach and nestled further into the comfort of his bedding. He was slowly waking, and though he could not remember his dream, he knew it had been pleasant. Mornings like this were a rarity for men such as him, and so he allowed himself to linger in that place between dreams and waking, that place where one could ignore the cares of the day and enjoy a simple pleasure.

He rubbed his nose against his pillow and relished the scent of Harry. He gave a soft, contented hum as he thought that it had been far too long since the brat had been in his quarters, and he-

_Terror. _

_Panic._

_Fear._

_Guilt._

Severus opened his eyes and sat straight up in his bed, forcing himself to abandon his plans for morning indulgences and begin to take in what was transpiring.

Something terrible was happening to Harry. Harry was terrified and was in desperate need of him. He thought he could literally hear Harry calling out his name in distress, and Severus felt his heart seize in his chest in response.

He quickly rose from bed and threw on his dressing gown, not bothering to put on any footwear. A small part of his brain that was not centered on Harry registered that he did not normally sleep naked and that his thighs ached in ways they had not in years, but he took no conscious notice of any of this.

The only thing he could think of was getting to Harry.

Wand in hand, he charged into his sitting room and quickly looked for Harry, only to find it empty.

How was that possible? He had just heard Harry calling for-

_Wait._

Severus stopped himself from becoming more alarmed and forced his thoughts to slow down. If Harry was being attacked, he would need to have his wits about him. Undoubtedly the brat had once again attracted trouble in some form, putting himself in a life-threatening situation, and would need Severus to rescue him.

_Only..._

He considered what he thought had originally woken him. He had been positive he heard Harry screaming in fear. Now that he was awake and lucid, he knew that was an impossibility.

Harry had not been in his bedroom, nor had he been in his sitting room. There should have been no way he could have heard Harry's call.

And yet, he swore he could feel Harry's fear like an almost tangible-

Severus closed his eyes, allowing himself to abandon his physical senses, and attempted to focus on what made him certain Harry was in danger. He forced himself to relax and used all his mental prowess to drive back the dread that was threatening to destroy him, his focus. Harry would only suffer if he were to allow himself to become distracted.

Harry was terrified and felt incredible guilt- guilt so perceivable Severus swore it felt as if it were his own. This last sensation only confused Severus more. What could Harry have done that would torment him so? Severus could think of nothing that a brave and kind young man could have done to induce such guilt.

But how was any of this possible in the first place? How could he feel what Harry-

And like sand through a sieve, memories of the previous afternoon began to seep into Severus' mind.

Severus grew confused as he began to recall events that only served to baffle him further. He remembered Draco and his odd behavior in Potions class, and-

The potion! Severus cursed himself as he recalled his blatant stupidity and how he had allowed Draco to trick him into inhaling some unknown concoction. Harry had been there; he had not left him to Draco's repugnant advances. He had protected him while he had been incapacitated, and then after...

Severus inwardly groaned as he began to recall what had happened while under the influence of the potion. How he had told Harry he loved him, how he had finally voiced his thoughts on Harry's incredible beauty.

Severus began to become unnerved himself, realizing what he had revealed while he had been unable to control himself. He had sworn to himself that he would never burden Harry with those feelings, and Draco's potion had forced him to break that promise.

He cursed himself anew as he began to massage his temples, realizing that there would be consequences to what he had said yesterday.

He had sworn never to lade Harry with his unwanted affections, knowing in his heart that he could never deserve anyone as brave and beautiful as him. Severus gritted his teeth and feelings of guilt invaded him as he realized that not only had he burdened the young man he was in love with with his unwanted attentions, but also the one person whom he had no right to demand anything of- not after what his actions had put Harry through. Harry had been the sole reason for every one of his undertakings for the last sixteen-

Severus' thoughts broke off as more of his memories returned to him. He recalled sitting with Harry on his sofa, leaning into him and swearing to love him forever, asking Harryto be his.

The memory was disturbing in itself, but his body went still and his mind began to race as he recalled the murmur in his ear at the pivotal moment.

He looked over to his sofa, as though it were possible to see the shadow of himself and Harry still in their passionate embrace. Severus tilted his head to the side, and memories of his conversation with Harry stormed his mind. His conversation with Harry that had been aided by some whisper of a voice in his ear...

_Oh, please Merlin, no._

Severus backtracked to his bedroom, taking in the rumpled sheets and how the bedclothes were unmade on both sides. He returned to his sitting room, looking over toward the sofa where he had confessed his undying love for a boy half his age, where he had made promises that he could not allow himself to keep.

_How did this happen?_

An unprecedented guilt crashed down upon Severus, making it difficult for him to breathe. The remainder of what happened last night came back to him- declarations of love and devotion, promises of a home that Harry had seemed so grateful to receive.

His mind finally allowed him to register the aches of his body, and he remembered taking Harry into his bedroom. He remembered every touch, every taste, the way Harry had been so eager and had seemed to want Severus as much as he had been wanted.

It had been a gift he had not deserved, and he felt like a thief in the harsh light of day.

Suddenly, despair that was not his own flashed through him.

_Panic._

_Guilt._

_Terror._

Harry's emotions overran Severus' senses and he still could not comprehend how that was possible.

Though he had not been aware of it at the time, Severus recognized now what the whispers in his ear had been. He remembered a soft voice telling him that he was right to love and protect Harry, that he would be needed in the near future. He knew that he needed Harry to be with him, but he could not recall precisely...

Suddenly, Severus was able to remember exactly what he had been thinking when he had promised Harry a home, promised to love and protect him forever.

_The bond..._

Severus' eyes went wide as he became cognizant of exactly how and why he was able to sense what Harry was feeling; how he knew that Harry needed him so desperately.

_Oh, Merlin. What have I done?_

Without warning, the door to his office opened and Dumbledore stepped into the room, opening the door just long enough for Severus to meet the eyes of his very terrified bondmate.

He recoiled in that short moment when his eyes met Harry's.

He had done this. He had brought that fear to Harry's eyes. Guilt threatened to overwhelm him.

Dumbledore closed the door and approached Severus with a fatigued gait, extending an arm and putting it around his shoulders.

"It has certainly been an interesting night, my boy. How are you?"

Severus stood in barely masked shock. He had no idea what the headmaster was doing here, or how he had known to be down in the dungeons in the first place. He made an attempt at gathering his wits about him, but they were nowhere to be found.

"Oh, dear. Perhaps you should have one of these as well," Dumbledore said as he put a hand in his pocket, retrieving a calming potion which he quickly offered Severus.

Severus gulped the small relief down without hesitation, then went to sit on the sofa with his head in his hands.

"Severus, please," Dumbledore sighed. "I've just had the most awful conversation with Harry-"

"Harry?" Severus asked, lifting his head from his hands, hearing nothing other than his bondmate's name from the headmaster's mouth. "How is he?"

Dumbledore lifted his eyebrows. "Do you not know?"

Severus put his head back in his hands. "Yes," he hissed. "Unfortunately, I know exactly what he is currently feeling."

"Severus, please. You need to calm yourself. You're going to upset Harry further if you continue like this."

Severus grunted and ran his long-fingered hands through his hair as he understood that Dumbledore was correct. He remembered everything that had happened last night. He recalled exactly what he had been thinking, had been feeling while in Harry's presence.

His thoughts had been only on Harry and protecting him in any way he was able. He had somehow known that something terrible would be happening soon, and that Harry would need him in a much deeper way than he ever had before.

Given the depth of emotion he felt for Harry, it was no surprise that the bond that had formed between them was one born out of romantic love.

Severus closed his eyes and considered his current situation. He was sitting in his dressing gown in his bare feet with a student on the other side of his door and his bedroom in plain view. He had no idea how Dumbledore had come to know what had happened, but it was plain that he had.

"How much do you already know?" he asked the headmaster, not willing to simply assume the other man's omniscience.

"A good deal, actually," Dumbledore replied.

"And will you be accepting my resignation?" he asked in a dead tone.

"Your resignation?" Dumbledore asked, obviously bewildered. "Why would I do such a thing, especially now?"

Severus lifted his head to look the headmaster in the eye. "Why would you not? You say you are aware of what occurred here last night."

"I am aware. There's only one thing I don't know that I would like you to tell me."

Severus lifted an eyebrow, wondering what Dumbledore could possibly ask him. What had possessed him to sleep with the savior of the wizarding world, more than likely.

"Which bond did they have you use?"

Severus' brow furrowed. "They?" Severus asked, confused. "For once, speak plainly, Albus. I am in a foul mood-"

A chill ran down Severus' back as the final piece of what had happened last night descended upon him. He had his memories of last night's events, but in his terror at what he had done, he had not fully understood what had been done to him. His thoughts had only been on Harry.

Having had a few moments to get his thoughts in order and for Albus' calming potion to take effect, he could now recognize the sound of a voice that had whispered in his ear.

He had been made an instrument of Fate once again. How could he have been so foolish?

Severus clenched his teeth and made a fist, rising to pace the room.

"No," he denied, his voice dark and his eyes murderous.

Dumbledore sighed from where he was sitting on the sofa. Clearly Severus' actions spoke for themselves.

"Yes," Dumbledore countered plainly.

Severus shook his head. "I will not. I cannot. Not this, and not with him."

Dumbledore sighed and ran a hand down his face. "I don't believe you will have a choice, Severus. The bond you used is irreversible."

It was a question as much as a statement. Severus ignored Dumbledore and continued his pacing.

"Severus, please. This is going to be difficult enough. Some things are meant to be. This is obviously one of them."

Severus shook his head. "No. I will not-"

"I don't think you have a choice, my boy."

Severus seethed as what had been done to him and Harry crashed down upon him. "I no longer have a choice? Have I ceased to be human?" Severus roared in response. "Does free will no longer exist, or does it simply not apply to damned men and boy-heroes?"

"Don't be ridiculous. Of course you still have free will," Dumbledore said, his tone mild.

Severus shook his head. Had Dumbledore spent so many years manipulating his pawns that he no longer understood the magnitude of this violation? "I hardly see how that is possible, in light of what has happened. I did not _choose_ this."

"You did, actually," Dumbledore said. "Draco gave you the Anima Munio potion, Severus. It was your soul's desire to love and protect Harry. Fate merely stepped in and-" Dumbledore paused and looked at Severus. "Actually, you haven't yet told me the name of the bond you used."

_Anima Munio_, Severus repeated in his mind. He lowered his head and ceased his pacing, his shame only increasing. Draco had administered a potion that would force him to voice his true desires, and he had chosen Harry. Their current situation truly was his own fault. His desires had brought this about.

"Geheald us Hal," Severus said, answering Dumbledore's question. "I've only ever read about it. There was no way I could have brewed it having only read an excerpt from the potion once."

"No," Dumbledore agreed.

Severus looked over to Dumbledore, who looked every bit as all-knowing and haughty as he ever had.

"I would like a complete answer to my question as well, Albus. How much do you already know?"

For perhaps the first time since Severus had known him, Dumbledore looked a bit guilty. How had Albus known to be here?

"I know that nothing happened that you did not both want. It may have happened in a roundabout way, but there had to have been love between you, or the bond would not have formed."

Severus scoffed at the very idea of Harry loving him.

"Severus, please," Dumbledore said, his voice pleading. "Do not do this. Harry loves you; that much is obvious. If he did not share your feelings, the bond would never have worked."

"Harry is seventeen, Albus. He is too young to know what he wants or what love is."

Dumbledore shook his head. "No, Severus. I think Harry has been through enough in his life to know the difference between love and... infatuation."

Severus rubbed his temples. How could Dumbledore fail to comprehend the truth of the matter? "He is seventeen. Did you have one clue about life at seventeen?"

Dumbledore's face darkened. "That hardly seems the point."

"Do you remember me at seventeen? All the excellent choices I made? All the things I was foolish enough to believe in? Do you not recall that I also bound myself to a madman not long after?" Severus was seething, his face reddened and his hands clenched.

"I believe that you and Harry have much in common now. Perhaps not then, no," Dumbledore said over Severus' snort. "He's a very smart young man, Severus. You should not discount his opinion so rashly."

"He formed his opinion rashly; it deserves to be treated as such. No one in his right mind would ever-" Severus broke off before finishing his statement.

"Yes?" Dumbledore prompted sharply.

Severus turned away and began pacing his sitting room once again. "I am not a suitable companion in any sense of the word."

Severus stared into the flames in the hearth a moment, realizing that Dumbledore was not understanding him. "Did you know who you wanted at seventeen, Albus?"

He stoked the flames, his thoughts drifting to the back of his mind where Harry was still fearful, only registering moments later that the headmaster had not yet answered his question.

He turned just in time to observe Dumbledore pulling himself from a reverie, and Severus stopped himself from prompting the older man to speak.

Dumbledore seemed to understand Severus was waiting for him to answer. With a sad smile he replied, "Yes, I did."

_Oh_, Severus thought, and he felt regret for his harsh words for the first time in quite some time.

"What happened?" he asked quietly.

"Oh, that is neither here nor there. However, you asked if I knew who I wanted at seventeen. The answer is yes. I fell in love at seventeen and I've continued to love him until this day. I think it is fairly safe to assume that I will always love him..." Dumbledore trailed off for a moment, then seemed to recall what had brought on this conversation.

He smiled sadly at Severus and said, "You were a very foolish boy, Severus, but you've grown up to be a good man. Harry is already a good man. Young, yes. But he's older than you were at that age. Scores older. It's a good match. You'll be happy together, if you can accept it."

Severus walked away from the hearth and fell onto the sofa with none of his usual grace. "I would never have done this, not of my own free will. Not to him, Albus," Severus said, his voice a harsh whisper. "I would never have done this to him, of all people."

"You love him," Dumbledore said. It was not a question.

Severus sank down in his seat and put his head in his hands. "I love him enough to never force my presence upon him. I could never burden any man that way, but Harry..."

"Of all men, it is him you are meant for," Dumbledore said plainly.

"Why?" Severus asked, pain and torment in his voice.

"Because he needs you, Severus, and you need him. It's really quite simple. You are making something terrible out of a situation that should be celebrated. My friend..." Dumbledore broke off and lowered his head so he could meet Severus' eyes. "Do you have any idea how fortunate you are? Harry is a good young man and you will be so happy together. I truly am glad for you."

"Happy?" Severus barked, raising his head. "You are happy that I've managed to trap a young man as good as Harry in the magical equivalent of a-" Severus broke off uncharacteristically, the word refusing to leave his mouth.

"A marriage. Yes, Severus. I am confident you will be happy together."

"Nothing is that simple, not when dealing with Fate and prophecy. That is what this is about- that bond of all bonds."

Dumbledore lifted an eyebrow. "Yes, about the bond. I can see why it was chosen, however... If I am not mistaken, the bond allows for the sharing of power even-" Dumbledore's eyes unfocused and it was as though he was reading about the bond in his mind's eye. Suddenly he seemed to come back to himself, and he turned slowly to Severus.

"Why that bond, Severus?" he asked suspiciously.

Severus scoffed. "You would know better than I, Albus."

"You know the possibilities of this bond? What you could do if you so wished?" Dumbledore asked, his voice growing harsher.

"Yes, I know. I am wondering if that is what _they_," he sneered the word, "planned from the beginning."

Dumbledore frowned. "I will not allow it."

Severus laughed, a bit of the hysteria he was feeling leaking into the sound. "You may not have a choice, old man."

"I'll not sacrifice you, Severus."

"Why not? Not willing to give up your only set of ears in the enemy's camp?"

Dumbledore rubbed the corners of his eyes, suddenly looking very tired. "Yes, about that, Severus. We _all_ need to have a discussion."

Severus frowned and shook his head. "I will not have this conversation again. Especially not with Harry."

"Yes, Severus. I think it is time to bring your bondmate into this. You should know how terrified he is."

Severus shook his head again. He could not look at Harry now, not after what he had done to him.

"Albus, please. You cannot ask this of me."

"I ask nothing that you are not able to give. You are bound to the boy, Severus. He's a part of you now. Something as simple as a wall will not separate you. Nothing can."

Severus clenched his hands as he rose and subconsciously began to move away from his door, in some effort to distance himself from Harry as much as possible.

"Don't. Please."

Dumbledore looked over and smiled sadly at him. He put his hand on the door handle.

"Severus, you act as if I am sending you to your death. It's only Harry on the other side of this door."

Severus braced himself as Dumbledore opened the door, snarling internally as he realized that it no longer mattered if he schooled his expression to impassivity.

Harry would know how he felt regardless.


	23. Spoil the Vine

Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling and I do not own Harry Potter.

Warnings: Please assume that every chapter is not safe for work.

A/N: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed. Really it means to much to me to know that people are enjoying my story. I really do put my soul into this (sad as that may be) and it makes me very happy to know you are enjoying it.

Thanks goes to Torina and thesewarmstars for the wonderful beta jobs. Thank you, Laurenke1 for plot betaing. In addition to her Brit Pic, smut, and grammar betaing, WhiteCotton was also my 'reality' beta for this chapter. Thank you so much, darling. This chapter is for her.

* * *

Spoil the Vine

-

Harry stood and met Severus' gaze as he entered the room, shaking slightly as dark eyes connected with his own. He gritted his teeth and clenched his fists, resolving to remain silent in the face of Severus' accusations and only to offer an apology once he was through. Whatever venom Severus saw fit to spew at him, Harry deserved.

He lowered his gaze shamefully when he realized that Severus was barely clothed, wearing only his dressing gown. Even his feet were bare, the pale skin standing out against the cold stone floor of his dungeon quarters.

Harry had seen Severus in his dressing gown before, but he had always worn nightclothes underneath. He averted his gaze from the pale, hairless chest that the loose-fitting garment revealed. No, he shouldn't be looking the man over after what he had done last night, no matter how gorgeous he looked in his current attire.

Harry lowered his eyes to floor, and tried not to stare too much at Severus' feet.

He crossed the threshold and closed the door behind him, his eyes still aimed down towards the floor. He looked up with great reluctance and saw Dumbledore sitting in one of the straight-backed chairs next to the sofa. He looked much calmer than Severus, whose face was outwardly still, but his body betrayed him. In that inexplicable way, Harry knew Severus wasn't faring any better than he was.

But why was Severus feeling such anguish?

The silence that encompassed the room was overwhelming, the tension between them thick. Even if Harry had not been able to feel what was passing through Severus' senses, he would have been unable to mistake the tension straining the man's back, or the way his fists and jaw were clenched.

He was standing a few feet away from Severus, with only the length of the sofa separating them. With Severus' emotions swirling within him and the reminder of his actions last night between them, Harry felt both closer and farther away from Severus than he had ever been. It was a disconcerting feeling, and Harry forced himself to focus for Severus' sake. The silence in the room grew slowly more oppressive, and Harry decided to make the first move.

He started to open his mouth, not really knowing what to say. How did one apologize to someone they had so horribly violated?

Harry opened his mouth and then closed it again, his throat dry and palms sweaty. The eyes of the other men were on him, and he still had no idea what to say or do, short of throwing himself at Severus' feet and begging for forgiveness.

"Hello," he said in a soft tone.

Harry closed his eyes and cursed himself a fool.

_Right. Yes. Idiot. _

_'Hello?' _Was that the most brilliant thing he could come up with? Knowing that so much more needed to be said, he opened his mouth again, this time in an attempt to get it right.

Severus made to speak at the same time, and they both snapped their mouths closed at the same moment. Severus frowned and averted his gaze, and they sat in silence for a few more moments, awaiting Severus' response.

Severus straightened his shoulders and looked up at Harry, nodding determinedly. "Hello," he responded in the same soft tone.

Harry blinked and nearly smiled. He felt some small sense of relief invade him, but quickly pushed it down. Just because Severus wasn't yelling at him didn't mean anything was all right.

"I'm sorry," he said softly.

Severus frowned and Harry could feel the other man's confusion.

"You're sorry?" he repeated.

Harry nodded, and he ran his hand over his face in an attempt to wipe away the sweat he knew had collected there.

"Now, now," said Dumbledore calmly from his chair. "Any apologies or declarations can be made after we've had this discussion. There are more pressing matters to attend to at the moment, Harry."

Harry shook his head and opened his mouth to protest, but Dumbledore held up a hand.

"I'm sure Severus knows you feel remorse." Dumbledore gave a knowing look to Severus, then continued. "Now, wouldn't you like to know how it is possible that Severus knows what you are feeling?"

Harry took a step back and looked towards Severus, unwilling to nod but wanting to know what had happened all the same.

_Guilt._

_Anguish._

Harry let his gaze fall to the floor as he felt Severus' emotions flood through him. He wanted nothing more than to explain himself to Severus, to beg his forgiveness and tell him he knew he had been wrong. But all he could do was stand there, waiting to be judged.

"Severus," Dumbledore said, breaking the silence. "Perhaps you should inform Harry of your actions last night."

Harry looked up at that last. Severus had done something?

Severus cleared his throat and averted his eyes from Harry's gaze, which only served to frighten him further. What had he done? What had _Malfoy_ done?

"I don't understand," he said at last. "What did Malfoy do to you?"

Severus looked up with a frown and met his gaze once more. "Draco?"

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "I think Harry is laboring under a misapprehension. He believes what has happened to you is due to Draco's actions and not your own."

Harry sputtered, "Wait. Malfoy _did_ do this. The potion-"

"The potion that Draco used has nothing to do with our current predicament, Potter," Severus said bluntly.

Harry felt his heart sink and his throat close up at the sound of his surname coming from Severus' lips once again.

Severus flinched and looked away.

"But-" Harry broke off. "But then what's happened? Why is this-" he waved his hand between the two of them, as if the gesture in itself were a question.

"The potion that Draco... administered is called Anima Munio. It is a potion that forces the... true desires of a wizard to the forefront of his mind. It allows a person to see what he should consider... most important."

Severus refused to meet his eyes as he spoke, and the look on the other man's features bemused Harry.

"I don't understand," Harry said softly, confused and feeling a bit foolish for it.

Severus scowled at him as though he were the most idiotic, simple-minded person to have ever existed. Harry faltered under his dark gaze, before standing straighter, silently begging Severus to explain further.

"I will not explain it again. Not when the evidence of what I have just said is... in existence right before you."

Harry shook his head, still not understanding. Malfoy had given Severus a potion that forced Severus to acknowledge... what exactly?

Harry was barely able to stop himself from voicing the question, instead choosing to keep his thoughts to himself. Was it possible that Severus had been speaking the truth last night?

He had managed to stop himself from voicing his desire, but was unable to stop a feeling of hope from surging within him.

Severus jerked his eyes to meet his, his gaze incredulous.

"You-" Severus asked, only to be cut off by the headmaster.

"Before there are any other misunderstandings, perhaps we can talk about what Severus did now?"

Harry turned towards Severus again, eager now to know what Severus felt he'd had to do. If the potion had compelled Severus to do something...

He cleared his throat once again. "After we..." He paused. "After, I went into my lab and created a potion with the intent of bonding the two of us irrevocably in protection and... affection."

The moment went still between them and Harry felt as if the breath had been knocked out of his body.

"You brewed a potion?" he asked softly.

"Yes," Severus answered plainly.

Harry could barely mask the panic that was once again threatening to overwhelm him. "What type of- I mean, what does the potion-"

"Potter, calm yourself," Severus said in a loud voice. "Did you not hear me earlier? Draco's potion forced me to acknowledge my desire to... protect you. The potion I brewed is one that was very common between a husband and wife in the Middle Ages, before the Statue of Secrecy was enacted."

Harry balked. "A husband and a wife?"

"Or two wizards, Harry. Or two witches, for that matter," Dumbledore said calmly from his seat. "The potion Severus brewed was made especially for lovers, lovers who had every intention of spending their lives together."

"What?!" Harry asked, alarmed.

"Albus, you are only frightening him," Severus admonished.

"If I am frightening him, it is only because you are not being honest in your explanations," Dumbledore said plainly.

Severus sighed and rubbed his temples.

"With your permission," Dumbledore asked, gesturing to Harry.

Severus nodded and took a few steps away from Harry, allowing Dumbledore to fill the space between them.

"Harry," Dumbledore said kindly with a smile on his face, "there are many types of bonds, most of them centuries old and hardly enacted in these times. There are bonds between lovers, bonds between friends, and bonds between spouses."

_Bonds between slave and master; master and thrall_, Harry thought, spells from Draco's book running through his head.

"There are bonds that are breakable and those that are not. The bond Severus enacted last night is very strong- and unbreakable."

Harry was beginning to panic now. He knew Severus would never hurt him, but he also knew that most of the bonds in that book had been awful, to say the least. What had Severus done?

"Perhaps you should explain more expediently, Albus, before Potter collapses."

Harry looked over to Severus, who, despite the acidity of his words, looked as though he truly was concerned for Harry.

"You would like me to cut to the quick, Severus?" Severus nodded and Dumbledore smiled and continued. "Very well. Severus loves you very deeply, Harry."

_Anger_

_Shame_

"Albus!" Severus roared.

"You have some objection to what I've said? Are you going to begin your life together by lying to your bondmate?"

Harry blinked as he tried to take in what was happening, the hope that had lingered from before coming back in full force.

"Bondmate?" Harry asked softly to no one.

"Life together? There will be no 'life together,' of that I can assure you. If I had any... affection at all for Potter, I would not..." Severus cut off uncharacteristically and ran a long-fingered hand over his face.

Throughout the entire exchange Harry could think of only one thing, and that one thing was threatening to overwhelm him at the moment. Hard as he tried, he could not help the whisper of hope that filtered out of him.

"You do love me?" he finally allowed himself to whisper.

_Doubt_

_Disbelief_

Severus turned his head and looked at Harry with immense confusion written all over his face.

"You-" Severus began to question, but Dumbledore cut him off.

"As I was saying," Dumbledore said, interrupting them yet again. "What you have to understand, Harry, is there was a time when wizards and witches were hunted. A husband and wife might have been separated by great distances or some terrible skirmish. They needed to know when the other was in need of them, especially during those dark times, and so they created this bond.

"Geheld us Hal can be literally translated as 'keep us safe.' It's a bond that allows one bondmate to know when the other is in need of him by the sharing of his emotions. That is why Severus asked me to explain myself more quickly; he knew you were beginning to panic and he wanted to stop your panic from escalating.

"It also allows you to share magic when you have need of it, and I have a feeling that that particular component of the bond will be very useful in the future," Dumbledore said, his eyes ceasing to focus on Harry as he trailed off, becoming lost in his thoughts.

Harry was growing more distressed by the minute, and Dumbledore's odd behavior wasn't helping. Severus had brewed a potion- a potion that he had found in that book of Malfoy's- and had bonded himself to Harry.

"But- Wait-"

"Potter!" Severus roared. "Calm yourself or there will be no way we can continue this conversation."

"But," Harry stammered, "the book! You used _that_ book? The book Malfoy found during the summer?"

_Shame_

_Guilt_

Severus' shoulders slumped, and he lowered his eyes to Harry's feet, looking uncharacteristically ashamed. "Yes, but you must understand-"

"No, I don't understand!" Harry was trying to calm himself but failing miserably. "Which one was it? I mean- I know you wouldn't hurt me, but- Was it the slavery potion?"

Severus sputtered, and his face took on an almost insulted look of disbelief. "I beg your pardon?"

"The potion!" Harry asked once again, his face terror-stricken. "Which one did you use?"

Severus gaped and then glared at Harry incredulously. "Are you asking if I have _enslaved_ you, Potter?"

Harry was in such a state of panic that he failed to realize what he was asking. All he could think was that Draco had administered a potion to Severus who had, in turn, bonded himself to Harry. Perhaps it hadn't been Severus' fault-

"No, I did not enslave you, Potter. What in Merlin's name is going on in that miserable excuse for a brain of yours?"

That was one scenario down, then, but a hundred other possibilities were swirling around in Harry's head, his terror rising to a fever pitch. "Then what was it? The one that-"

"It was a protection potion, Potter! It is a potion that allows me to know when you are in danger, when you are in need of me, and the same for you. It simply allows me to know what you are feeling in case you are... in need of me."

Harry forced himself to slow down and listen to Severus' words, filtering them through his knowledge of Malfoy's book and trying to understand exactly what Severus had done.

Something occurred to him and he met Severus' eyes. "Can you read my thoughts?"

Severus scoffed. "Oh, for Merlin's sake. Have you been listening to a thing we have said? This is a bond between lovers, Potter, usually people who were already married."

Harry blinked, his mind still moving too quickly to process what was happening.

Severus sighed and rubbed his temples again. "Tell me, Potter, would you really want your wife to know your every waking thought?"

Harry sputtered, hardly able to understand the question.

"Would you really want to come home and think to yourself, 'By Merlin, if Sheila's made the pot roast again I'm going to hang her by her entrails and feed her to the dog,' and have your wife hear it?"

Harry took in the exasperated state of the man before him and let his thoughts slow down.

"No, I suppose not."

Severus nodded.

"But what about... er... the other things? Like forcing someone to... you know... desire you?"

Severus gritted his teeth. "Do you really think that a husband would want his wife to suffer without his touch?" Harry frowned and shook his head. He hadn't thought of that.

"Do you think a husband would want his wife to suffer at all?"

"No," Harry whispered, but he had to ask one more question. "But what about-"

Severus slammed his fist on the table by the sofa. "This is a love bond, Potter! How could you possibly think I would wish to do _anything_ like that to you?"

Harry stiffened at Severus' words. He paused a moment and asked again, "You really love me?"

Severus snapped his jaw shut, and once again Harry felt guilt and shame flowing over him, the feelings not his own.

"Yes, Harry," Dumbledore said, smiling. "Love had to be present for the bond to work. There are many protection bonds. The bond Severus chose is one of the strongest. It is irrevocable and can only be shared by those who truly do love each other. It had to be this bond, my boy. That is what I meant earlier when I said that all was well." Dumbledore said all of this with a smile, as though everything he was saying made sense to Harry, and made everything better.

Harry shuddered as he felt Severus' shame increase and watched as the man bowed his head.

"It did not have to be this bond, Albus. I haven't the first idea why a love bond was chosen, but any protection bond would have served."

Harry looked at Severus quizzically.

"It is the strongest protection bond, Potter. From now until the day one of us dies, I will know when you are in need of me," Severus said softly.

Emotions ran through Harry in a surge at Severus' confession. At once he felt guilt, and relief, and hope, and yes, a surge of what he knew was love for the man in front of him. His heart sped up and he couldn't contain the smile from stretching across his face.

"So... you weren't lying then? Yesterday, I mean. When you said you loved me, that... that you wanted to make-" Harry cut off as Severus looked at Harry with pain written across his features and washing over Harry through the link.

Dark eyes met green, and Harry had never seen Severus look so defeated. "I'm sorry, Potter. I did not lie to you; not exactly. However, what I said was as good as a lie. If I had been in my right mind, I would never have said those things. I would not have bound myself to you in the first place."

"Severus," the headmaster interjected harshly. "We have spoken about this. It had to be _this_ bond. This was fated-"

"Fated?" Harry asked, that one word alarming him to a degree that even the use of a potion had not. "What do you mean it was fated?"

Severus sighed and glared at Dumbledore. "The headmaster is sharing his opinion with us. Perhaps it is fated that I protect you, as I have always done. That, however, does not mean that any of this... romantic entanglement is necessary."

"Severus." Dumbledore stood with his back to Harry, putting his body between them. He could tell that the older man was standing very close to Severus and could feel his irritation. "I insist you put a stop to this, now. If you were meant only to protect Harry, then there are a multitude of simple protection bonds. That is not what has happened. You must believe there is a reason for all of this." Dumbledore paused and stepped away from Severus, addressing them both. "And aside from that, there will be no one else for either of you now."

Severus pulled away and took a step back. "There was never going to be anyone for me in the first place, Albus. As for Potter, he can go about doing whatever he wishes and it will make no difference to me."

"That's a lie," the Headmaster said, his voice growing harsher. "It would kill you if Harry were to stray."

Harry frowned and voiced his confusion. "Would you both please stop talking about me as if I wasn't here? And what did you mean what you said it was as good as a lie? Do you love me or don't you?"

Severus unwillingly answered Harry's question without words, a surge of love and desire washing over Harry like a flood. Whereas before he would have described Severus' feelings like a warm blanket covering his flesh, now he felt he could almost smell them.

Severus did love him.

"And why- why would I stray if I have you?" he whispered.

"Because you do not have me, Potter. The bond is in place, meaning I will be able to help you if you are in need, and we will be able to share magic to a certain extent. That alone will be enough to aid you in your eventual fight against the Dark Lord."

Dumbledore's eyes met Harry's and he stated plainly, "It's the prophecy, Harry. The power the Dark Lord knows not."

Severus' eyes widened as he took that statement in, and Harry muttered, "Oh, God;" drifting a moment in his and Severus combined shock. Harry felt Severus' rage grow, and he saw the man clench his jaw to hold back his anger.

After a moment Severus forced, "Yes," through his gritted teeth, and Harry felt his frustration clearly.

"This is it?" Harry asked, bewildered. "The prophecy? The power I have that he doesn't have?"

"Yes," Dumbledore said, smiling. "The love you have for each other must be very strong for this bond to have properly formed. Voldemort has no knowledge of such love. The love you share will only mature the bond in time; deepen it. The more time you spend together, strengthening the bond, the more powerful it will become-"

"Love has nothing to do with this, Albus. I will protect Potter, and the bond will allow me to do so. There is no need for any further... emotional entanglement."

"Balderdash," Dumbledore spat, his eyes angry. "Severus, why are you being such a fool?"

"Why are you interfering where you are not wanted?" Severus returned in equal measure.

"Because you are making a very large mistake and I will not stand idly by and allow it this time!"

Severus looked as though he had been slapped, and a feeling of righteous indignation flowed through Harry.

"I will not do this, Albus, and nothing you say can force me."

"No," Dumbledore said, "and I wouldn't. I would, however, have you see the truth."

"Truth?" Severus scoffed.

"Some things are meant to be-"

Severus turned away and gave his back to Dumbledore.

"Some things _are_ meant to be, Severus. Have you not always thought that it was meant to be you who delivered the prophecy-"

Severus whirled around and interrupted the headmaster before he could finish.

"You would put so much stock in Fate, Albus? Perhaps you have that right, since you've been treated so kindly by them..."

Dumbledore's face crumpled a bit at Severus' words, but the man continued.

"I, however, am tired of having my life dictated by unseen forces and I will not allow myself to be manipulated once again!"

"You already have been, Severus," Dumbledore said plainly. Harry felt it as Severus deflated and defeat washed over him. "This is not up for discussion. It would be very difficult for either you or Harry ever to be with another. And why would you want that when you are so perfect for him? Harry obviously sees it; why can't you?"

"Because Potter is a seventeen-year-old boy who was seduced by someone he viewed as a friend and has no idea what love truly is!"

"Shut up!" Harry suddenly shouted, rage flowing through him. Severus and Dumbledore turned to him, startled at this reminder of his presence. "How dare you! Both of you, talking about my life in front of me when I hardly understand what's going on."

"This is all you need to understand, Potter." Severus advanced until he was looming over Harry, the scent of the man invading Harry's senses, and Harry had to stop himself from closing his eyes and inhaling. "I will protect you with my life, and after this moment we will never have to speak to each other again."

And in a moment Harry's heart fell and his breath left him, as though Severus had physically punched him in his stomach.

Severus winced and closed his eyes.

"There, Severus," Dumbledore said, softly. "How does that feel? Are you willing to go your entire life feeling that?"

Severus opened his eyes, his pain and torment so obvious that Harry had no need of the bond to feel it.

"Potter is young. I'm sure a better proposition will come along shortly."

Harry seethed, tightening his fists and biting his lip to keep from screaming the first thing that came to mind. The nerve of Severus to speak about him like this, and in front of him, as though he wasn't there! Harry didn't dare open his mouth to respond, though the look on Severus' face showed he seemed to understand well enough.

"It is both your fates to be together in this way, Severus. The bond needs to be matured. Surely you know this," Dumbledore said, his tone growing exasperated.

"It is mature enough," Severus responded.

"Do you believe it possible to share magic as the bond is now?" Dumbledore asked, his tone conveying his disbelief.

Harry was perplexed, not truly understanding what the two were speaking about, but said nothing. He watched, oddly fascinated, as Severus closed his eyes and the room fell back into silence.

Harry grew nervous after a moment, not knowing what was about to happen. He opened his mouth to ask what they meant by sharing magic, when suddenly he felt Severus in a way that was different from before.

Quite suddenly, Harry could feel the thing that was connecting them. It was as though there was some sort of a string between them and Severus was attempting to tug on it. Harry could feel Severus pulling at something inside of him, but whatever it was would not give.

"A small amount, which should be sufficient to aid Potter."

Dumbledore shook his head. "No, Severus. The bond must be matured. You and Harry must be together for this to work."

"How do you know all this, Albus?" Severus asked angrily. He began to pace the sitting room, looking at the headmaster as though he were only just seeing him. "How did you know to be here in the first place, for that matter?" Severus asked, and Harry turned to hear the answer, both feeling and sharing Severus' confusion.

Dumbledore, however, would not be distracted. "That is not important. What is important is that I know this bond must be matured. As this is a love bond, it must be matured by your gradually growing relationship."

"How convenient that all of this is fated..." Severus muttered under his breath.

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. "You doubt that, Severus?"

Severus said nothing, but Harry could feel his doubt.

"Perhaps a demonstration?"

Severus looked up at that.

Dumbledore took a few steps back and turned towards Harry, removing his wand from his sleeve. "I'd like to do a little test, if I may, Harry."

Harry watched as Severus crossed the sitting room in two wide strides, the other man coming to stand in front of him like a shield. "What manner of test?"

Dumbledore smiled. "How is Harry coming along in Occlumency?"

_Confusion_

"He isn't. Potter is perhaps even more inept in the discipline than he was two years ago. He seems completely unable to grasp the concept of mind magic."

Dumbledore nodded and aimed his wand at Harry. "I'd like to try something out, Harry."

"Albus, what are you doing?" Severus asked, his voice sounding gruff and a tentative fear flowing over him. He did not miss how Severus stood in front of him, almost inching his body toward Harry's.

"I'm simply going to cast Legilimens, Severus. There is no need to be so defensive."

"To what purpose? I have already told you it is pointless. Potter's mind is an open book. If I so desired, I could make him believe he is a very special episode of Fawlty Towers."

Dumbledore grinned and said, "Be that as it may, I would still like to try something." He waved Severus away. Severus looked back at Harry and slowly moved to expose him to the headmaster's wand.

"Now, Severus, I'd like you to raise your own shields-"

"There is hardly a waking moment when they are down," Severus interrupted.

"Good. Now, raise your own shields, but I'd like you to imagine they are encompassing Harry."

Severus scoffed. "Impossible. There is no way to shield a person's mind for them."

Dumbledore's grin only grew. "Humor me."

Harry grew more wary at Severus' hesitation to Dumbledore's idea. He had no clue of what to expect; he only knew that he was not looking forward to Dumbledore rooting around his mind, especially after the events of last night.

"Now, Harry, try to relax. I imagine this will be over very soon. _Legilimens_."

The spell hit Harry and it was as though an invisible wall had been erected, completely shielding his mind. Harry could recognize Severus' presence; covering his thoughts but not penetrating them. He could also sense a foreign invader trying to gain access to his mind, but he knew it was nothing compared to the strength guarding him.

There was no way past Severus' shields.

After a few moments, Dumbledore ended the spell, and Harry turned to Severus, not having suffered the forceful invasion of another mind.

_Disbelief_

_Consternation_

_Denial_

"No," Severus whispered.

Harry felt Severus' astonishment increase as he turned to look at him. Dark eyes met green, and Harry knew they were thinking of the same moment.

Both their minds were currently running over that day in August, and Harry's insistence that it could be fate that he could not learn mind magic.

"It would appear Harry no longer needs to learn Occlumency," Dumbledore said plainly.

**************

Severus' hands were shaking. If he had been in the presence of any other person, he would have attempted to blame it on the cold and the fact that he was barely dressed.

But any such attempts at subterfuge would be completely pointless while in the company of the young man before him.

His mind was in chaos.

In no reality was any of this a possibility. Harry might no longer be a boy, but he could not be trusted to know himself this well- well enough to make a decision that would affect the rest of his life.

And yet the revelation of the prophecy could hardly be ignored.

He stood there in silence, his eyes meeting Harry's as they shared a mutual feeling of disbelief and awe, both overwhelmed.

Still, Severus tried to deny the truth that was staring him right in the face, damning supreme beings for meddling in the lives of men who ought not to be meddled with.

_Tempt not a desperate man._

"Do you understand now, Severus?" Dumbledore asked kindly. "It had to be this bond and you and Harry have to be together if any of this is going to work. Now, I don't know exactly what 'together' means for the two of you, whether or not Harry will have to move back down to the dungeons..."

Severus' eyes went wide and a streak of terror ran through him, Harry's eyes catching his own in confusion.

No, Severus thought. He had suffered enough when Harry had lived with him during the summer. It had been agony having the one he desired most with him constantly, and it would be impossible to bear now that Harry was so convinced that he loved him.

Severus had doubted he would survive the summer, yet he had. Still, something told him he would not be able to bear having Harry in his home, as his lover, and have him leave again him, as he knew he would...

"No," he whispered.

"Now, Severus-" Dumbledore began, but Severus cut him off with a roar.

"I said no, Albus!" Severus allowed his every emotion to be revealed on his face, the stark contrast to his normally expressionless features a testament to how far out of his depth he currently was.

"I will not be manipulated into this. I did not choose this."

"Wait," Harry said, his voice soft.

Severus whirled around to see Harry looking at him curiously, the glimmer of hope in his eyes piercing through the darkness of Severus' battered soul.

"I don't understand. You're not angry with me?" Harry asked, but why he was asking that particular question Severus had no idea.

He knew that he could no longer lie to Harry, however, and so Severus could do nothing but shake his head and say, "No. Why would I be angry with you?"

Harry's face paled and he lowered his gaze shamefully. "I- I took advantage of you last night. When you were-"

"Potter," Severus interrupted, feeling a pang of remorse at finally understanding where Harry's guilt came from. "You did no such thing and I fail to understand how you even think it. It was I who violated you. A mistake we will both be paying for the rest of our lives, it seems."

Harry's presence in his mind grew impossibly more distressed. "Mistake?" he whispered.

Severus sighed and nodded. "Yes, Potter, a mistake."

The headmaster interrupted him, his eyes cold. "Severus, I know what you are about to do. I beg you, please don't do it."

Severus didn't even bother to address the headmaster's concerns. It was none of his affair.

"But- I'm sorry," Harry said sadly. "I know you think I'm stupid, and maybe I am..."

Severus closed his eyes at Harry's honest self-depreciation. All he wanted was to hold him close, tell him that he was of completely normal intelligence and actually quite brilliant at defense, and force that awful sense of self-worth he had away.

"You are not stupid, Harry," he said.

Harry's eyes went wide and he looked down, concentrating on the bone structure of Severus' cold, slipper-less feet.

"Then... If you love me, then why was this a mistake? Why would you not want to be with me?" he said slowly, and Severus could feel his growing dread.

He hated what he would have to do, but better it be done now than later on; before Harry left of his own accord, having realized he had taken up with a monster.

"This will not happen, Potter."

Harry's face twisted in confusion and pain. "Why not?"

"Because I do not wish it," he answered shortly.

"But... That's not an answer. You love me! I know you do. If you love me, if we're bonded, if we can't be with anyone else," Harry said, frantically ticking away all the reasons for Severus to acquiesce, to allow Harry in his life, "then why would you not want to be with me?"

"Indeed, Severus," Dumbledore interrupted again. "All of your denials are for nothing; the bond is already in place. There will be no breaking it, and this is something that most definitely should not be broken. I beg you- don't do this."

Severus seethed. Why was the old man here in the first place when none of this was his concern? He turned to Harry, who seemed so certain that their current predicament was a thing to be celebrated when Severus knew the one truth that transcended all the others.

He would never be worthy of Harry.

"If the bond is in place and Potter no longer needs to learn Occlumency, then there is no reason for us to linger any longer. We will see each other for class, and if it were my choice I would not allow him in my presence even then."

Harry's features twisted and he quickly went from confused to angry. "But why? You still haven't told me why! You say you're not angry with me, but I don't understand. Why won't you be with me? You love me, I know you love me."

Severus looked at Harry gravely and knew that he could offer nothing less than total honesty. Harry knew exactly what he was feeling; could see the evidence he tried so hard to dismiss as plain as day. There would be no lying to him, not anymore.

He was forced to tell the truth.

"What does it matter if I do?"

Harry blinked, and his entire face screwed up in agitation.

"Because you said... You said all those things, and I know- I know you meant them!"

"I have already told you, Potter, that those promises were uttered while under the influence of a potion. I was not in my right mind and my choice had been stripped from me."

"But-"

"No buts, Harry. I did not choose this; I would never have done this to you."

Harry gave a desperate sob, and gulped down a breath. "But, I don't understand why not. If you love me and I love you-"

"You do not love me," Severus said, interrupting him. "You are far too young to understand the sentiment."

Harry seethed and his face went red, his emotions lurching from angry to furious in an instant. Severus could see the change clearly on his features, but feeling Harry's anger grow so quickly nearly caused his throat to constrict.

"How dare you be so condescending to me after everything- after everything you know I've been through! How dare you tell me I don't know what love is!"

"You are seventeen years old," Severus stated plainly. "That is far too young to be planning the rest of your life."

"Damn you," Harry said in a fierce whisper. "How dare you doubt me, after everything we've been through together, after all you've learned about me, how _dare_ you say that to me."

Harry turned away from Severus and Dumbledore and looked towards the fire, his breath heaving and his hands pulling at his hair.

He turned and Severus was astonished at the picture he made; how incredibly powerful his anger was, how beautiful he was even now.

"I do love you, you heartless bastard. I have loved and lost enough people to know what I want, and I want you. I want this." Harry closed his eyes and dragged both his hands through his hair in his frustration. "God, I hate you so much for saying all of this because you know how much I want you."

"For how long?" Severus asked.

"For as long as you'll have me-"

"No," Severus interrupted. "How long have you wanted me?"

Harry opened then closed his mouth and took a step back.

"At your age is it very easy to confuse infatuation with love, Potter. I would not hold it against you if you fell into that trap. You do not love me and I doubt that you are capable of it."

Rage not his own washed over him and Severus swore it was as though a fire had been lit inside him.

"Maybe I was slow to realize it, but I do love you, I do want you. I've wanted you for months and I just didn't know it."

"And when exactly did you realize this, Potter? Around the time my cock entered your arse, or after I made you come?"

"Fuck you!" Harry swore.

"Severus!" Dumbledore yelled. "I beg you to stop this before it goes too far."

"Stay out of this, old man!" Severus turned to finally unleash his anger, his resentment towards the headmaster, wishing he had the power to banish the man from his rooms.

"Don't talk to him like that!" Harry yelled.

"I will speak to him in any way I see fit, Potter, when he is meddling in my affairs," Severus responded.

"_Our_ affairs, you fucking bastard." Harry's eyes met his own and he gritted his teeth. "I hate you so much right now."

"Yes, because it's easy to go from one end of the spectrum to the opposite when you are young. Trust me, Potter, I will be a distant memory for you in a few months' time."

"That is not possible, Severus. The bond is unbreakable. Harry is as much a part of you now as you are a part of him." Dumbledore attempted to situate himself between Severus and Harry but Severus advanced on him, realizing he was hardly formidable in his dressing gown but unwilling to give up any ground all the same. "Severus, you are coming very close to completely destroying my faith you."

Severus had had enough of Dumbledore spewing his lies. "Shut up, Albus!"

"My God!" Harry exclaimed. "Why are you doing this? I can feel how much you love me; I can feel how much it's killing you to say all this. Why are you saying it?"

"You truly wish to know, Potter?" Severus asked, his teeth clenched. "Allow me ask you a question- when exactly did you realize that you preferred men?"

Harry opened his mouth to scream in anger, then shut it just as quickly.

"Are you a homosexual? Bisexual?" Severus asked.

Harry lowered his head and closed his eyes. "I don't know."

Severus sneered. It was as he had thought. His guilt and shame only multiplied as he thought again of Harry in his bed, how all of it was a lie.

"There is no need for dramatics, Potter. Many young people experiment at this point in their lives-"

"It wasn't an experiment. I love you, you fucking bastard!"

"You do not," Severus answered. "Tell me when you first realized that you were attracted to men, Potter. How old were you? Ten, twelve? Younger?"

Harry said nothing; he simply stood there, his face pale and his teeth clenched.

"I knew I was attracted to men before I even set foot in this school. So I ask you again, Potter, exactly when did you realize that you love me- was it before or after I had my cock in your arse?"

"Fuck you," Harry whispered. He shook his head and hysterical laugher bubbled out of his throat. "I'm sorry," he said in an equally soft voice.

Some queer sense of compassion came over Severus, and he took a step back. Harry no longer looked enraged, no longer looked as though he was out of control of his emotions. An odd maturity settled on him as he took in Severus and he could swear Harry was seeing right through him.

Harry took a step, advancing on Severus, his eyes hard and his lips set in a sneer. "I'm sorry," he repeated. "I'm sorry if you're the first man I've ever been attracted to. I'm sorry if I spent my formative years being chased by a madman."

The volume of his voice increased and his face grew red as he continued. "I'm sorry that I was so miserable I couldn't see straight during the years I should have been chasing cock and skirt."

"Harry..."

"No! I'm sorry if I didn't fuck any other guys before I fucked you. I didn't know I was going to be given a test after we went to bed."

Severus wanted to lower his eyes, but seemed to be unable. Harry's stare was all-encompassing and he felt blasted open and remorseful.

"Harry, I'm sorry-"

"No! No, you don't get to be sorry right now. You want to know? I'll tell you! I'm sorry if you're the only person I want. I know it's not normal and I know any other guy would have been using everything he had to get as much sex as possible but I was _dying before I had you_!

"Don't you understand that, you heartless bastard? Of all people, I thought you would understand! You were there! You saw! How can you ask me these things when you knew it was the furthest thing from my mind? I'm sorry if I didn't develop my gay reputation before I slept with you, but you're the first- the first person I've ever fallen in love with."

Harry was breathless as he finished his tirade and Severus was speechless. He sought to deny what Harry was saying, needed something with which to push him away.

"If you say you are only comfortable with me, that only further establishes my point. You see me as a crutch, something you will outgrow when you leave childhood."

Harry glared and he sneered his response. "I'm not a child. Don't you dare call me a child."

"You _are_ a child when it comes to this. You have no idea what you are getting yourself into, Harry," Severus said, his anger growing yet again.

"And you? Do you often go around fucking children?"

Rage roared through Severus at the accusation and, before he had time to consider what he was doing, his hand raised, almost of its own accord, the back of it slapping Harry across the face.

Several things happened all at once.

Dumbledore shouted his name before nearly flying across the room to grab Severus' hand, as though he needed to keep him from beating Harry further.

Self-loathing, guilt, and terror ran through Severus as he realized what he had done. And just as he turned his eyes onto Harry, whose face was still turned away with the force of the assault, a terrible sensation came over him and he felt an almost physical fist collide with his face, hitting him in the exact way he had hit Harry, only with twice the force.

He recoiled and Dumbledore lost his hold on him, the blow nearly sending him to the floor.

He looked up at the only other occupant in the room who could have delivered the blow, but Harry was standing there looking crestfallen and confused.

His beautiful face was twisted in a sneer and a red hand mark marred the paleness of his cheek. Green eyes were looking at him with such anger that Severus was tempted to retreat.

Harry bit his lip, made a fist with his right hand, and pulled his arm back.

"No, Harry, wait!" Severus tried to grab his fist, but Harry lowered it.

"It would appear that the bond has some level of protection against your bond-mate as well, though I would not have thought either of you would have need of it," Dumbledore said, his voice dripping with disappointment.

Harry looked at Severus, then shook his head in amazement.

"Are you still trying to protect me, Severus? Even after all that?"

Severus said nothing and lowered his gaze to the floor, unwilling to see the damage he had done.

"I think I understand now," Harry said, his voice no more than a whisper. "You really do hate yourself, don't you?"

Severus looked up and met Harry's eyes.

"I'm- I'm having a hard time understanding what you're feeling. I know that you love me, but there's this hate- and I don't understand it completely, but I think I'm starting to."

Harry adjusted his glasses, his eyes piercing straight through Severus.

"You really do hate yourself, and that's why you think I could never love you. It has nothing to do with me, does it? You just- you just hate yourself so much-" Harry broke off as a tear fell from his eye. "And you just can't understand how anyone could love you."

Severus shook his head, unsure of what exactly he was denying.

"You- you love me. Can't you trust me? Can't you trust that I know you well enough to say that I want you? Please? Can you not think- think enough of me to trust my opinion? You're- you're everything to me." Tears flowed freely down pale cheeks, one highlighted red in the shape of a hand screaming Severus' sins back at him.

"I love you. Can you not trust that?"

Severus was undone. He thought if Harry had asked him for anything else- his heart on a platter, the headmaster's heart on a platter, anything at all- he would have given it to him. He had never been able to deny Harry anything he asked of him, not since that night in the infirmary. He knew he would give Harry anything he was able.

"Please," Harry begged.

But not this.

A foreign noise slipped out of Severus' throat and he thought it might have been a sob. He raised a hand and lowered his head, bidding Harry to stay away from him.

"Leave," he ordered.

Harry balked. "But-"

"Do you not understand? I did not choose this, I did not choose to be with you! After all our time together can _you_ not understand that? Of all things, you should know that I would not want to have the very thing that makes me human stripped from me."

"But if this was meant to be-"

"You can stand by and allow Fate to dictate your life all you like, but I will not allow that to be done to me."

"Severus," Harry whispered pitifully, and he extended a hand towards him.

For an instant, Severus thought of how easy it would be to take Harry's hand; how badly he wished to pull Harry towards him, feel his body against his again. He allowed himself to imagine some separate reality where he was a different person, a man not so tainted, a man more worthy of Harry. He allowed himself one brief moment of weakness to imagine taking that calloused, pale hand in his own and keeping Harry with him always.

"No," he said, and brought himself back to his reality. No, he could not do this, he could not do this to Harry.

"Leave and do not return, Potter. You are no longer welcome here," he said in a soft, broken voice.

Harry's beautiful features twisted and fresh tears began to fall.

"I'm sorry... I- I don't know what to do," Harry said, sobbing. "I don't know what you need and I know I'm supposed to give it to you and I'm sorry."

"I require nothing. I don't know where you get the idea-"

"Because I'm supposed to protect you, too! I'm supposed to help you and love you and I don't know how."

Severus put his face into his hands and summoned all his strength, all the venom he would need to send the one shining light in his life away forever.

"Leave, Potter, and take your pathetic attempts at heroism with you," he sneered.

"Stop it, Severus... For God's sake-"

"I did not choose this, and I will not have my will taken from me. Pick whichever reason you prefer, whatever will allow you to see that I do not want you!"

Harry's eyes were glassy as he recoiled and Severus felt his heart breaking. Harry fled. He spun around and ran out the door as though hell were chasing him.

And just like that Harry was gone.

Severus briefly recalled a dream he had had in the summer; an image of Harry calling him a monster and recoiling from his touch.

That would have been so much easier to bear. Even now he could feel Harry's need, his desire for him. His departure from the room meant nothing and only served to increase Severus' torment; Harry's emotions swelling within him, overwhelming him.

Miserable, Severus sank into his chair and put his head in his hands, completely forgetting that he was not alone.

"Are you proud of yourself, Severus?"

He looked up, surprised that the headmaster had not left yet.

"Incredibly," he answered. And he nearly was. If he had been slightly less in control of himself, he could have easily allowed himself to take what had been on offer- damning himself in the process.

"Do you have any idea what you have done?" Dumbledore asked gravely.

Severus nodded. He could not begin to describe the emotions running through Harry or the instinctive pull felt; something inside him telling him his bondmate had need of him.

He ignored it.

"I paid him a kindness, Albus. I cannot burden him. Not Harry."

Dumbledore walked around the room until he was standing in front of Severus.

"Look at me," he commanded.

Severus continued holding his face in his hands, not willing to obey any command barked at him. "I am not some errant schoolboy you can order around when you believe I have behaved poorly."

Dumbledore grabbed both of Severus' hands and pulled them out from under him, forcing him to look up. Severus sneered and snatched his hands back, horrified at having been touched as though he were one of Albus' charges.

"Unhand me, Albus! For Merlin's sake- I am not a child."

"You are acting like a child. Do you have any idea what you've done?"

"I did the boy a favor. I'll not have him-"

"You did nothing but break his heart! I never thought you could be so selfish, Severus. Never in all our time together have I seen you behave so poorly, thinking only of yourself."

Severus grew angry at the false accusations.

"Selfish? You dare call my behavior selfish? You can't actually conceive that I wanted to do that, that it brought me any joy. If I had any less self-control I would have taken him as my own, kept him for myself, and never allowed another to touch him. I would have made him mine completely, and I his. That is how badly I desire him."

His darkest sins broadcasted, Severus sank into his chair, his misery growing.

"I fail to see how that is selfish," he muttered softly.

"I believe he wants you just as badly, Severus."

Severus shook his head. "You are both fools."

"No, Severus. The only fool in this room is you. You are throwing away something precious because you think yourself unworthy. What you don't seem to realize is that it does not fall to you to determine whether or not you are worthy of him." Dumbledore paced the area in front of Severus, his eyes dark and glaring. "You think you're doing Harry a favor by abandoning him, by removing him from his sanctuary?"

"I did what was best for him-"

"You did what was best for yourself!" Dumbledore roared. "You have always been selfless, Severus; I had no idea you were capable of this."

Severus endured these accusations in silence, having no desire to continue defending himself to a man who had no idea what it felt like to be so manipulated. Dumbledore had never been wielded as Severus had been- both by higher powers and by the headmaster himself.

"Do you have any idea how fortunate you are? How happy you should be that Fate has smiled upon you so kindly?"

Severus looked up at Dumbledore, now unable to ignore the stupidity leaking from the man's mouth. "Don't you dare speak to me about Fate being kind."

"Fate has seen fit to give you a handsome young man, perfectly suited to you, who loves you as much as you love him. At what point does that become a burden?" Dumbledore asked, his voice stern and his eyes glaring.

"I dislike repeating myself, Albus." Severus met Dumbledore's eyes and repeated himself slowly, "I will not have my free will taken from me."

The headmaster was silent, but his presence commanded Severus' attention and at once he was reminded of exactly why the Dark Lord feared Albus Dumbledore.

"You feel as though Fate hates you? As though you are only a pawn in a larger game?"

"Feeling has nothing to do with it, Albus. That is the reality of the situation."

"Then why not consider yourself lucky and take what has been given to you?" he asked honestly, a pleading tone to his voice.

Severus remained silent, content to watch the fire in the hearth as Harry's anguish raged through him.

"Severus, do you have any idea how fortunate you are? Do you have any idea what I would give to be in your position?"

Severus turned to Dumbledore incredulously. "Don't speak to me of fortune when you have no idea how it feels to be manipulated by powers that have no respect for free will."

"You are not the only one with a destiny, Severus, and you are not the only one to have been manipulated. You think Harry too young to know that he loves you? Smoke and mirrors, Severus. I knew who I wanted when I was his age, but unlike you we did not have Fate on our side."

Severus scoffed at the headmaster's melodrama.

"Not all men have a destiny, Severus. But you have one, as does Harry." He paused for a moment then continued, "I had one as well."

"Oh?" Severus asked absentmindedly, not truly caring what Dumbledore had to say and wishing he would leave. His attention at the moment was on Harry, who lingered in some place in his consciousness.

Dumbledore sank onto the sofa and put a hand over his eyes, rubbing his temples in frustration.

"Fate was not as kind to me as it has been to the two of you. It molded each of us, to be certain, but the two of you... Harry's fate is to defeat Voldemort. Yours is to help him. And mine... Well, mine has been to help you get to this point. The three of us have all had our... trials, our time in the fire to refine us, make us strong. You and Harry have endured your hardships separately, but you have each other now- "

Severus turned towards Dumbledore in frustration, tired of his incessant rambling over a subject he already deemed closed. If this were any other man he would have cursed him already and been done with it.

"For once, Albus, speak plainly or get out!"

Dumbledore's eyes darkened and grew cold in a way Severus had never before witnessed. "You asked what happened to the boy I loved. His name was Gellert Grindelwald, and he died... by my hand."

The sneer faded from Severus' lips and guilt overwhelmed him as he was shocked into silence.

"That was my fate. It was the lesson I needed to learn in order to forge ahead, to do what needed to be done. But it was hard won. So forgive me if I have little sympathy for a man whose destiny includes loving a good man and being loved in return."

Severus said nothing; he merely met Dumbledore's gaze in some inadequate attempt at empathy.

"I did not know," he said, knowing that there were far better things that he should have said.

"No. Few did and most of them are no longer with us." He sat stiffly in his chair and turned his gaze to the fire, and Severus took the opportunity to appraise him- a man he had known nearly all his life, yet was somehow seeing for the first time.

"Where is Harry now?" Dumbledore asked.

Severus turned his eyes to the fire as well, trying to distract himself from Harry's distress with the tumbling flames.

"The bond doesn't include a locator spell. I doubt Harry would have appreciated that," he said, his voice low and humble.

"I didn't ask if you knew where he was for certain, Severus. You know him best; where would he go in his grief?"

Severus closed his eyes and he used what he knew of Harry to discern where he would find solace.

"Not the common room, nor the library. He would go to the pitch if he thought it was safe, but he knows not to stray out of the castle at night. After all this time, it seems he has finally learned not to go chasing after adventure."

Dumbledore laughed darkly. "No. I believe he's had enough adventure for one night."

Severus nodded, feeling Harry's grief welling up inside him. He closed his eyes and tried to ignore it, but it would have been just as easy to ignore a knife in his chest.

"He's in the Astronomy Tower."

Dumbledore turned to Severus. "Will you go to him?"

Severus closed his eyes and struggled with Harry's pain as well as his own. It would be so easy to give in; to allow weakness to overcome him and take Harry as his.

"No."

Dumbledore stared at him a moment and before standing up, then walked across the room and opened the door. He paused with his hand on the doorknob and turned to Severus.

"You disgust me."

And then the headmaster was gone.

And Severus was alone.

****************

Harry paid no attention to the stars.

It was still dark out and there wasn't a cloud in the sky, the weather unseasonably good for this time of year.

The loveliness of the heavens only mocked Harry further as he felt himself descend into a hopelessness he had never before known.

There was simply nothing to compare it to. He'd had his heart torn out over Sirius and then Ron. But nothing compared to what he had just experienced with Severus.

Severus, who was all around and inside Harry, but whom he had never felt so far away from.

In the end there had been no mixed signals, no words misconstrued leading to terrible misunderstandings. There had been only Severus, who had needed Harry's help and his love, and Harry, who had failed him completely. He hadn't known what to do. How could he fight against such hate? What defense could he present in the face of an entire life spent in self-loathing?

Harry couldn't understand it, and yet he could feel it- a misery so thick and so old Severus didn't even question it anymore.

So many things made sense now. Why Severus had no friends, why he kept himself locked away in his dungeons, why he continually seemed so amazed at Harry's friendship, and disbelieving of his affection.

Harry leaned over the side of the tower, looking down onto the grounds below. He felt as though he were suffocating, Severus' pain threatening to crush him; what he now knew was the bond was screaming at him to help his lover, to make him feel worthy and convince him of his love. Harry could feel Severus' desire for him too, but it meant nothing. Severus didn't want him, not in any way that truly mattered.

And so Harry stood on the hard stone floor of the tower, nearly drowning in hopelessness and despair.

"Harry?"

Harry spun around and attempted not to show his frustration at having his solitude invaded by the headmaster.

"Harry, my boy, I am so sorry," Dumbledore said, extending a hand as he approached, a look of pity and sorrow on his face. "I thought Severus would see reason, but-"

"Headmaster, I-" he broke off as his throat constricted. He breathed as deeply as he was able, and addressed the headmaster again. "I really don't want to talk about this right now."

Dumbledore nodded and then, looking at the sky, took out his wand and conjured two reclining chairs.

"Well, we don't have to talk, Harry. Come." Dumbledore patted a chair and smiled. "Sit with me and let us number the stars while we are still able to see them."

_Number the stars?_ Harry blinked, tired of all the confusion this night had brought, having no idea what had come over Dumbledore. He had hardly cared at all for Harry's pain in the past, always satisfied with a platitude about how he would be fine and an, 'oh that's good, my boy,' before sending him on his way.

Why would the headmaster care now?

"You don't have to do that, sir. I'm fine. I'll go down to my dorm in a few minutes. I just- just want to be alone right now."

Sadness flashed in Dumbledore's eyes before he smiled and nodded, removing his wand from his pocket and banishing the chairs. "Yes, of course. If there is anything I can do for you, anything at all, please tell me. I swear I will do anything in my power to help you."

Once again Harry's throat constricted and he lamented the hopelessness of his situation; that there was nothing to be done, no one that could help. No one he knew that would understand...

"Where's Remus?" he asked suddenly.

Dumbledore's eyebrows rose and he responded, "He's taking care of a bit of Order business at the moment. Would you like to see him?"

Harry nodded then turned away from the headmaster, thinking that though Remus would be angry at the turn of events, he would listen. He knew it wouldn't really help to have his friend there, and yet the idea of having someone to share his misery served to lighten his burden. Having his friend here, if only to keep him company, was the only thing he thought would give him any solace at the moment.

"Then I'll ask him to come at once. I'll leave you to your thoughts now," Dumbledore said, giving Harry one last sad look before turning away.

Looking on the headmaster at that moment, Harry felt very much like an adult looking at a child.

"You know, I really don't want to look at the stars, but- A bit of company would be nice."

His concession had the desired effect and Dumbledore turned back and smiled, making a sharp motion with his wand and watching as the chairs materialized once more. They sat down, Harry's body tense and rebelling at any attempt at relaxation. He looked over at Dumbledore, who was still smiling sadly.

Harry held back his anguish, feeling even more alone for having conceded Dumbledore this small comfort.

However, Dumbledore seemed to understand his need for silence, at least, and so the two sat there in the darkness; Severus somehow between them and Harry having never felt so alone.


	24. Pray Your Loneliness

Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling and I make no money from this fic.

Warnings: This fic is rated M but I will not warn when the slash scenes are coming. Please consider every chapter not safe for work.

A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who has given such thoughtful reviews. I truly hang on your every word and all feedback is so appreciated. Thank you.

Special thanks go to thesewarmstars and WhiteCotton who betaed this like the champions they are. WhiteCotton also servers as Latin charmer, Brit-picker, and smut-wrangler. Also, thanks to Laurenke1 for a plot beta. Our hearts go out to Torina who is with us in spirit for this chapter. *massive hugs*

As always a special thanks to the lovely people over at Severus Sighs for such wonderful Snarry discussion. If anyone has questions about the story or would like to discuss it, I can be found there... always.

* * *

"Pray that your loneliness may spur you into finding something to live for, great enough to die for." Dag Hammarskjold

-

Two young men sat in a clearing deep within the Forbidden Forest. They sat in tense, uncomfortable silence, one lying stifly on the ground, the other stoking the fire in a vain attempt to gain more warmth.

Harry watched as tiny embers flew into the air, paying no attention to where they chose to land. He was lying on a large root that was painfully embedding itself into his back, but couldn't bring himself to pay it any attention. His thoughts were somewhere else, with someone else, and nothing could distract him. He barely noticed the oppressive silence that hung in the air.

"Harry, I-" Ron said, disturbing the quiet.

"Don't," Harry cut him off.

Harry heard Ron sigh and the silence returned.

"Just don't. I don't want to hear it, Ron," Harry said mechanically as he stared into treetops so dense none of the starlight could shine through.

*************************

Harry opened his eyes and before he even brushed away the foggy haze that lingered from sleep, his thoughts turned to Severus.

Harry's concern for his lover was at the forefront of his mind and, without making a conscious decision to wonder about Severus, the depth of the man's emotions assaulted him. Severus was awake, Harry knew for certain, and he was agitated about... something. The only other thing Harry could feel was the constant guilt and remorse that surrounded Severus like a fog.

He stared at the canopy over his bed for a few moments, his heart heavy with the weight of Severus' demons, which now affected him as though they were his own.

Harry discovered quite quickly, that even if he wished it, he could not tune his lover's emotions out.

He fumbled for his glasses, which lay on his nightstand, his hand encountering the round lenses as well as a piece of parchment. Putting his glasses on, he recognized the headmaster's handwriting asking to see him in his office as soon as he woke.

Harry sighed and lay back down, wanting to pretend he had not seen the missive, but knowing that he shouldn't ignore the summons; especially not after the events of yesterday.

He rose from his bed and showered quickly, amazing himself with his ability to function as though the weight of the world wasn't nestled firmly on his shoulders. His heart was heavy and his thoughts were only on Severus and how badly he needed Harry, and on how he had turned him away all the same.

As he dressed, he suppressed the despair that was threatening to overtake him, despair that radiated from Severus.

If he wasn't so stubborn, Harry could be with him right now... If Harry knew what to do, knew of some way he could help Severus...

Shaking his head and forcing himself to think of something more productive, Harry threw on a t-shirt and left the dorm. It was still early and hardly anyone was awake on a Saturday morning. He moved quietly towards the exit of the Gryffindor common room, only to encounter Hermione waking up in a chair by the hearth.

_Damn_, he thought, knowing that he wouldn't be able to get out of talking to her. He hadn't been paying much attention to his surroundings when he had returned to his dorm a few hours before, and hadn't noticed her.

"Harry!" she exclaimed as she ran over to him. "What happened to you and where have you been? You didn't come to dinner and then you didn't come back to the dorm last night."

Harry inwardly groaned and put up a hand, stalling for time.

He hadn't thought of Hermione or anyone else in relation to the situation he now found himself in. What could he tell her that she would believe?

"I was with Snape and Dumbledore," he said quickly, knowing instinctively that it would be better to stick to the truth as much as possible in order to get out of her questioning.

"The headmaster? But why? And why all night? Harry, you look terrible."

Harry ran a hand through his hair and gave a snide smirk before looking down. He hadn't even given himself a look this morning, but he knew what he would find- regardless of the eight hours he spent in Severus' bed, Harry felt exhausted and drained. The pain of their separation and of Severus' self-loathing was an enormous weight and Harry mentally gave it the equivalence of carrying around a large rock on his shoulder.

Of course he looked horrible.

"We practiced dueling all night. Snape thought that I was good enough for a spar with the headmaster, and we just kept going... lost track of the time," he lied almost effortlessly.

Hermione looked thoughtful, but nodded her head all the same. "Oh," she said. She bit her lip and looked down. "You would tell me if something was wrong though, right, Harry? You haven't exactly been yourself lately, and I thought it was Ron-"

"Hermione-" Harry said, cutting himself off as he realized he was about to snap at her. He sighed and rubbed his eyes. "You're my friend and I wouldn't leave you out of anything. If anything happens, I'll tell you, but I really was with Snape and Dumbledore all night."

It was almost frightening how easy it was to lie.

Hermione nodded and took a step back. "Well, now that I know you're alright- but what are you doing up at this hour?"

Harry pulled Dumbledore's parchment from his pocket. "Old man never sleeps, does he?"

Hermione smiled back, but her eyes betrayed her worry. "Well, maybe you can get a bit of sleep when you come back."

Harry nodded and smiled painfully. "Yeah," he said, thinking of how Severus' pain invaded even his dreams.

*********************

Harry slowly walked the halls that led to the headmaster's office. He was in no hurry, and as Dumbledore's note hadn't given a specific time, he figured whatever he had been called for was not incredibly urgent.

He spent the time trying and failing to ignore the dull pain that enveloped him and feeling guilty for the attempt at the same time. As much as he loved Severus, he had no idea how the man could live this way. Harry knew something had to be done, but for the life of him he didn't know what.

He and Severus were bonded for life, but Harry couldn't contemplate a future with this awful feeling of loneliness and misery inside him.

But how could he fix it? Was it even fixable? Severus didn't want him, had made the conscious choice to turn him away. He knew there would be no quick fixes, no subtle turns, nothing to easily make this right.

So what could he do?

Nothing, he answered himself, wanting nothing more than to take a break from this feeling of complete misery.

His steps slowed and he soon found himself with his back against the wall, lacking the energy to continue. He put his face in his hands and willed it all to go away. Damn Severus; damn his guilt and his self-loathing and everything he was doing to Harry!

He tried to shove his thoughts of the man from his head, to have a moment, just one goddamned _moment_ of peace, but the despair would not release him. He couldn't begin to contemplate feeling like this for the rest of his life.

And it was only the first day.

He continued to feel the pull towards Severus, the bond telling him that his bondmate had need of him, that he needed to comfort him, make him feel loved.

Harry shoved his fingers between his eyes and his glasses and tried to mentally picture ignoring Severus, feeling guilty even as he tried. He imagined placing the same wall he constructed during his Occlumency lessons between them.

_Just for a moment_, he told himself. _I'm not ignoring him, I'm just trying to get my head together. Just give me a moment, Severus, please._

Harry concentrated and held his breath.

Nothing happened.

Just like in his Occlumency lessons, the wall failed to materialize and Severus' continuous despair washed over Harry with no end in sight.

Harry sighed and he realized that, although he was partially disappointed, he was also slightly relieved.

Perhaps he shouldn't be able to block Severus' suffering. Severus needed his help and Harry couldn't allow himself to forget that, not even for a moment.

Severus' pain was terrible, but something inside Harry told him that he should not ignore his lover's anguish, as awful as it was.

_Anger _

_Hatred_

_Fear_

Harry felt Severus' irritation turn to blinding anger in an instant, and while that did alarm Harry, the slight twinge of fear that followed terrified him.

He abandoned his mental ramblings and kicked off from the wall, running to Dumbledore's office in a sprint. Something terrible must be happening and Harry needed to get to Severus right away.

He ran the short distance to the gargoyle as fast as he could, shouted the password, and took the stairs two at a time. He didn't bother with knocking, throwing his manners to the wayside in the wake of Severus' fear, and flung open the door-

Only to see Dumbledore sitting behind his desk with a frighteningly pleasant look on his face. Standing next to him was Severus, his arms crossed and his expression thunderous. The only other occupant of the room was sitting in the chair in front of Dumbledore's desk.

Harry would have known that blond hair anywhere, but he was still unprepared to see the snide, cocky face of Draco Malfoy turn around to face him.

"Ah, Harry," the headmaster said kindly as he bade him to enter. "Excellent. Now that we are all here we may get started. The door, if you please."

Harry remained silent and closed the door, entering the room slowly. He did not miss how Dumbledore did not offer him a seat, nor how Severus stood next to him like some sort of silent enforcer. Harry looked at his lover, wishing that their eyes could meet for just a moment, but Severus' eyes were focused elsewhere. They were glaring daggers at Malfoy, betraying his rage, though the younger man was not looking at him.

Malfoy was looking at Harry.

"Oh, how awkward," Malfoy said, commenting on the silence between the two lovers with a barely concealed chuckle.

Harry immediately stopped looking at his lover or anywhere near him and walked to the opposite side of Dumbledore, holding himself in a stance similar to Severus'. He didn't need to give Malfoy any more ammunition than he already had.

"I think that will be enough of that, Draco," the headmaster said coolly. "This meeting is for your benefit. It would be to your advantage to be polite."

"My benefit?" Malfoy asked snidely. "I really don't see what you're talking about. In fact, I fail to understand why we're having this little meeting in the first place."

Harry watched as Severus' eyes narrowed and a storm coursed through him. As much as he acknowledged that Severus' tongue could flay the best of men, he admitted that he looked much more frightening standing silently next to Dumbledore, a strong, black pillar of indignation.

"We're having this meeting, Draco, for you. You could call it a... negotiation, if you prefer."

Malfoy laughed right in the headmaster's face this time. "Negotiation? What exactly is there to negotiate? The fact is that I gave _you_," he pointed to Severus, "a potion that brought out your deepest desires, and it led to none other than _you_," he pointed to Harry.

Malfoy smirked and looked Harry up and down. "And from the look of you, I can't imagine it worked out well. What happened, Potter? He kick you out of bed in the morning?"

"That will be enough of that, Draco," the headmaster said in a clipped tone.

"He took one look at you and... oh, let me guess... vomited a bit and then sent you on your way without breakfast?"

Harry seethed and clenched his fists at Malfoy's words, but followed Severus' lead, saying nothing.

"So you were his deepest desire for what? One good night's-" Draco was silenced, but his mouth continued to move for another moment before both his and Harry's eyes turned to Severus-

Whose wand was pointed at Malfoy, his nostrils flaring and his eyes set in a deadly blaze.

"I think that will be enough of that, Draco. If Severus removes the silencing spell, will you agree to be an active part of this conversation?" the headmaster asked.

Malfoy's face twisted in anger, but he nodded. Dumbledore turned to Severus, who made a circular motion with his wand as he removed the spell.

Malfoy cleared his throat and shot a glare at Harry, seeming to intentionally look anywhere but at Severus.

"As I was saying, Draco, this is a negotiation of sorts. We have decided to give you a chance to remain a free citizen as well as a student at this school." Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and his face grew darker. "The bottom line is this: the four of us in this room will pretend as though nothing out of the ordinary happened yesterday. You did not administer a potion to Professor Snape and you know of nothing that may or may not have happened in the dungeons after you left."

Harry balled his fists and bit his lip. Dumbledore was just going to let Malfoy walk away after everything he had done to Severus? Harry knew that after yesterday Malfoy would have no love for Severus and no information to save his life would be forthcoming. So what would be the point in this continued farce of a truce?

"Oh?" Malfoy said, leaning back in his chair to mimic Dumbledore's stance. "And why should I? I really don't see what's in it for me. You can't keep me locked up for the duration of the war. My mother would come looking for me and then you'd have to tell her- what? That you're keeping me in a room somewhere because I have certain information?"

Malfoy smirked and looked at Harry before continuing. "You could kill me, but you won't. You won't obliviate me either. It's too risky and you wouldn't risk my mind, being the great, noble Dumbledore."

He extended his legs and crossed his feet at the ankles, looking completely relaxed. "So I really don't see that you have a leg to stand on."

_Amusement_

Harry looked to Severus and for just a moment their eyes met. The camaraderie, the knowing that they shared, gave Harry that smallest reprieve he had been aching for before Severus looked away.

"That is not exactly how we see it, Draco," Dumbledore said, waving a hand to encompass the other two men in the room.

"This is the way we see it: you administered a potion to a professor at this school with the intention of seducing him. You did this against his will and broke several school rules, not to mention the rules that govern our world.

"While the potion in itself was not illegal, your intent was. If I so desired, I could expel you immediately and Severus could press charges that would land you in Azkaban before the week is out."

Malfoy's ankles uncrossed themselves and he sat up straight in his chair. "My family-"

"Does not have the political clout it once had," Severus spoke for the first time, his voice dark and menacing.

"My father-"

"Is on the run and your mother has been ostracized from any family not faithful to the Dark Lord."

Malfoy paled and looked to the ground. "And what about you, Severus?" His eyes were slits as he turned to look at Severus, his face twisted in hatred. "I could go to him, tell him everything. How you're in love with his enemy, that you're a traitor to the cause. He would kill you."

"And I would kill you," Harry said automatically. It was a knee-jerk reaction to Malfoy's threat, but Harry quickly realized it was true.

_Astonishment _

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Severus turn to look at him.

"There is no need for melodrama, Potter," he said quietly.

Harry turned from Malfoy's glare to Severus. He wanted to argue that, while the statement might have been dramatic, the sentiment was very real, but held back. He knew better than to fight in front of the enemy. He had to control his own anger at the threats made against his lover. Harry had failed Severus once. He wouldn't fail him again.

"Now, let's try to keep from making death threats so quickly," Dumbledore said in a light tone. "Draco, you could in fact do all of those things. You could inform your master of Severus' true allegiances and his life would be forfeit. But then yours would be as well."

Dumbledore steepled his hands and peered at Malfoy over the rims of his glasses. "You would be expelled and thrown into Azkaban for most of your adult life. Now, I am willing to make a deal with you."

Malfoy gritted his teeth but seemed to realize that his fight was futile. He nodded his head in response, bidding the headmaster to go on.

"You will swear an oath to me that you will not reveal the events of last night to anyone. You will keep Professor Snape's secrets as well as any knowledge you may have about what occurred after you administered the potion. In turn, you will remain a student at this school until you graduate and no charges will be pressed."

As Dumbledore leaned forward at his desk, his eyes steeled and his voice darkened. "That is your only option, Draco. Do you accept?"

Malfoy looked at his feet for only a moment before jutting his chin up and looking defiantly at the headmaster. "I accept."

Dumbledore nodded and spoke, "Do you swear never to reveal the true allegiances of Severus Snape and to keep what occurred in the dungeons last evening to yourself?"

"I do," Malfoy said gravely.

Dumbledore nodded and smiled. "Well then, I believe that concludes our business here. I think it goes without saying that you should limit your contact with Professor Snape and Harry from now on."

Malfoy answered Dumbledore with a glare.

The headmaster merely smiled and shooed him off with a wave of his hand. Malfoy rose quickly, opened the door and left without looking back.

"Do you really think this is the best course of action, Albus?" Severus asked, sounding skeptical.

"I do, Severus. Draco is right. Obliviation is too risky and we are not murderers. This is our only option if we are to keep this secret."

Their mutual enemy having gone, a different yet still heavy tension invaded the room. Harry looked up at Severus, but the man would not return his gaze, his eyes focused instead on the headmaster.

Dumbledore sighed and leaned back in his chair. "I suppose it would be pointless to ask if the light of day has changed anything, Severus."

Dark eyes met green before Severus turned towards the door and left the room in a sweep of black robes.

Dumbledore sighed again and rubbed his temples. "It's only been a few hours, Harry. He may yet change his mind."

Harry gave a small half-smile at Dumbledore's attempt to comfort him, but said nothing. It would take a great deal longer than a few hours for Severus to come around. He excused himself from the office, wanting nothing more than to climb back into bed.

********************

Four days later, Harry was no closer to devising a way he could help Severus and the inevitability of his snapping under the strain of the bond grew more certain.

He hadn't even attempted to speak to his lover, instead wanting to give the other man time to sort out his feelings. Surely Severus knew what his own pain was doing to Harry?

It was Wednesday evening and dinner had ended an hour ago. Harry had not returned to the Gryffindor common room, choosing to wander the halls aimlessly in search of the elusive answer to his problem.

In his heart, he was beginning to understand that there was none.

Harry shook his head, trying to cast off the dark thoughts. It didn't matter, nothing mattered but helping Severus. Making Severus realize that he was worthy of every good thing, that he deserved to love and be loved.

He had to keep going...

He couldn't give up hope, not so soon. It hadn't even been a week since they were bonded, but already Harry had to fight to keep the hopelessness from overwhelming him.

He turned a corner and walked down the stairs that led to the ground floor when suddenly he encountered Malfoy in his path.

The taller man looked down at Harry and smirked. "Well, don't you look like death warmed over? Got something on your mind, Potter?" Malfoy asked snidely, blocking Harry's way with his body.

Harry stepped to the side, saying nothing, only wanting to get away from Malfoy as quickly as possible.

"So tell me- what's it feel like to be Severus Snape's guilty pleasure?"

Harry closed his eyes for a moment and continued walking away, not wanting to be goaded into an argument with Malfoy no matter what he said.

"Did he scream when he found you sleeping next to him in the morning, or did he just hex you? I'm inclined to believe the latter, 'cause you really do look like shit, Potter."

Harry wanted nothing more than to turn around and physically beat the life out of Malfoy, channel all his anger and his despair into the destruction of another living being, but he held off. He might not be the smartest wizard, but he knew beating up Malfoy would change nothing.

"You're not going to win, you know," Malfoy said, his voice no longer vindictive and taunting, taking on an odd solemnity instead.

Harry's pace slowed almost of its own volition. He clenched his fists and could hear the other man's steps as he neared him.

"You're too far behind and you have too many rules. If I were Dumbledore, do you think I would have let me live?" Malfoy made a clicking sound with his tongue that suggested it was a pity Dumbledore was such a good man.

"You're not going to make it out of this alive, Potter. But you know that... don't you?"

Harry had not thought that the weight on his shoulders could grow any heavier, but it did. Dumbledore had said that he needed Severus to defeat Voldemort, and that was the one thing Harry couldn't have.

The hopelessness that had been threatening to overtake him for the past few days descended upon Harry and his shoulders slumped. Harry stopped walking altogether and Malfoy advanced on him from behind, his voice a whisper in his ear.

"They'll never let you live. But you're not going to be the first... oh, no. If the Dark Lord doesn't kill Severus first, I'll kill him mys-"

Malfoy was cut off as Harry turned and grabbed him by the collar, flinging him against the wall, and the sound of his head meeting the hard stone made a sickening dull thud.

"Shut up! Just shut the fuck up!" Harry screamed as he took out his wand and jabbed it into the other man's throat.

"You're not going to touch him, do you understand?" Harry screeched through gritted teeth.

Malfoy whimpered and tried to tilt his head back, squirming out of Harry's grasp, but Harry wouldn't let go.

The events of the past few days and the hopelessness of his situation became too much and Harry felt his rage take over completely.

"It's your fault, you little ferret, you stupid little-" Harry dug his wand farther into Malfoy's neck, eliciting a strangled gasp and making his eyes bulge.

"Why did you do that to him?!" Harry screamed, desperately needing to know why Malfoy had been so selfish as to give Severus that potion. "Do you not know him at all? You didn't think, did you? No, you just saw something you wanted and Malfoys- fucking stupid Malfoys," Harry roared, his face growing red and his breathing becoming erratic.

"You think I'd let you touch him? You think I'll let you anywhere near him after what you did?!"

Harry pressed down around Malfoy's throat with his left hand while his right burrowed the wand further into his flesh.

Malfoy's eyes were frantic and he began to claw at Harry's hands as his strength seemed to leave him and his face turned blue.

Harry didn't notice. All he could think of was keeping the little ferret from ever harming Severus again.

****************************

Severus was in the middle of brewing healing potions for the infirmary when suddenly he felt an odd tugging he had never felt before. He was tempted to look down to assure himself there was no wayward house-elf trying to gain his attention, but then Harry's emotions were thrust to the forefront of his consciousness.

_Rage_

_Terror_

_Fear_

In an instant, the bond was screaming at him to help his bondmate. This was no longer the dull ache, the quiet, constant pull that demanded he go to Harry.

This was alarm, an almost physical draw to find Harry and aid him.

Severus abandoned his potion and stormed out the door and into the hallway. He ran up the stairwell, his robes flowing behind him, when he suddenly realized he had no idea where he needed to go.

He knew that Harry was in trouble, that Harry needed him, but how would he find him when there was no locator spell in the bond?

As though in answer to a direct question, an odd feeling moved through him and he knew where Harry was. There might not be a locator spell, but it seemed that the bond would give the one what he needed to help the other.

He turned on his heels and began to run, only to hear screams in a nearby hallway, exactly where he knew Harry would be. He ran the distance between himself and the noise, not caring if he encountered any wayward students on his path, only needing to get to Harry.

The screaming became clearer as he rushed into the hall. He could hear Harry's voice yelling gracelessly and felt mindless rage course through him.

"You think I'd let you touch him? You think I'll let you anywhere near him after what you did?!"

Severus slowed his steps as Harry and Draco came into view, Harry's face red and twisted in his anger, his wand digging into Draco's neck.

He didn't seem to notice that his other hand was cutting off Draco's air supply.

He approached Harry slowly, mindful of the fact that his bondmate was not in his right mind. He saw the instant Draco noticed him, a pleading in his eyes as he continued to paw at Harry's hands, his struggle growing weaker by the moment.

With great care, Severus spoke, "Harry."

Harry didn't seem to hear him and continued his chaotic ramblings.

"Harry," he said again, very softly. "Let him go, Harry."

Harry didn't register that Severus was there at all. He continued to put pressure on Draco's throat and Severus knew that he needed to do something. Coming up from behind Harry would only startle him, and that could mean death to Draco.

Severus did the only thing he knew to do. He closed his eyes and pushed all his terror and panic away. He concentrated on only his love for Harry, for a moment allowing himself to think of it as something to be cherished and celebrated when he knew that nothing could be further from the truth.

He could lie to himself if it would help Harry.

Slowly, he extended his hands, laying them on his bondmate's shoulders and leaning in close to his ear.

"Let him go, Harry."

Severus pushed away the guilt that threatened to overwhelm him, the guilt that said he was toying with the young man, giving him false hope.

He watched as Harry let go of Draco's throat and his wand hand fell to his side. Harry released Draco and gently turned his head to face Severus'.

Recognition flooded green eyes and Harry's face looked relieved at once. He exhaled deeply and Severus felt peace run through him as Harry smiled weakly.

Severus could not smile back. He grabbed Harry by his shoulders and said, "Would you stand over here for me, Harry? Just for a moment." Harry nodded, still in a daze, and stood where Severus placed him.

"Severus," Draco said, congenially. "Thank Merlin-"

Severus thrust his forearm against Draco's bruised neck, holding his entire body in place. He loomed over the younger man and whispered with clenched teeth, "Listen to me, Draco. What I am about to say is very important and you shall listen to every word."

Draco nodded, his eyes fearful and looking around the hallway.

"_Dissimulare_," Severus said, casting a privacy sphere around the three men. "To ensure no one will disturb our conversation." Draco's eyes took on a crazed look that they had not had even when Harry was choking him.

"Draco, I want you to understand something- Look at me!" Severus commanded and gray eyes snapped to his.

"Listen to me very carefully," Severus spoke slowly and succinctly. "I don't care if I am given a life sentence in Azkaban. I don't care if they give me the Dementor's kiss... I don't care if the Dark Lord comes after me himself... If you go anywhere near Harry again, I will kill you."

Draco's eyes widened as he took in Severus' promise and he shook his head.

"You think I wouldn't do it? Dumbledore may not be a murderer, but I am. I swear I will kill you if you go anywhere near him again. Do you understand?"

Draco nodded mutely, his eyes still looking for a way out. Severus put pressure against his windpipe and Draco croaked.

"Tell me you understand."

"I understand," Draco mouthed.

Severus released him and took down the privacy sphere. "Go."

Severus watched as Draco ran down the hall away from the two of them as fast as he could.

He exhaled and rubbed his temples, thankful that he had been able to arrive before anything awful had happened. He had reached Harry...

_Harry..._

"Severus?"

Severus turned abruptly and quickly found himself besieged. Harry was standing in the exact spot in which he had left him, looking up at him with more hope than he could qualify.

The rage that had disfigured his lovely face had left and all that remained was a gentle exhaustion. Severus had known that Harry was suffering, but now he was able to see it up close.

His eyes looked tired and pained; the type of fatigue that comes with long anguish. The madness now gone, his face was quickly losing its red color, taking on the pale cream that was so familiar to Severus.

He looked Harry up and down, tenderness and desire coursing through him, wanting nothing more than to take Harry with him into the dungeons. Harry needed him; needed to rest, needed to be in Severus' bed...

He took a step forward and he saw as Harry's eyes lit up in hope and contentment. That tender, tentative smile was back, but Harry's eyes betrayed him.

_Relief_

_Joy_

And although Severus could not read Harry's mind, his eyes seem to scream at him, _"Yes, please take me home. I'm so tired and I miss you so much and I can't do this anymore, I need you so badly..."_

They stood like that for a moment, Severus caught in Harry's gaze, unable to move forward or back.

Severus couldn't name the emotion that came flooding through the bond as the happiness left Harry's eyes, as he began to understand that nothing had changed. Despair and desperation were not adequate words to describe the pain Harry felt, or the trepidation that he himself experienced watching the man he loved fall apart in front of him.

Harry nodded and coughed, then gave a frantic chuckle. "Are you not- How can-" He shook his head and laughed deliriously. "My God, you must be made of steel, or something."

Severus stood still, not knowing what to say, knowing that nothing could be said in the situation in which they found themselves. All he knew was that he hated to see Harry suffering, but he cursed himself as he knew it would be far worse to comfort him.

In the end, all he could do was his duty and assure himself that Harry was as well as he could be.

"Are you alright?" he asked in a soft voice.

Harry laughed. It was the same odd, nervous laughter that was serving to frighten Severus and he looked closely at Harry again.

Green eyes met his and he could feel Harry's pain, his desperation, and his confusion at why all of this was happening in the first place.

He expected Harry to scream at him, to demand more answers, to beg for Severus to stop this ridiculous charade and take him to his bedroom.

Severus readied himself for the onslaught, resolving himself to not give in to Harry's desires. He stood like a man before a firing squad, determined to survive.

"I'm fine," Harry lied. His shoulders fell and he dropped his gaze to the floor. "I'm fine," he repeated, somewhat softer yet more insistent this time.

They stood there in silence for a moment, Severus memorizing the senseless pattern of Harry's hair and the sound of his breath as he attempted to calm himself.

Severus nodded and turned away, knowing that he couldn't remain in Harry's presence for another moment. He had completed his responsibility to Harry, protecting him even from himself.

It was a shallow victory, but it was all Severus had as he slowly made his way along the corridors leading to the dungeons, every step feeling as though Harry were walking right beside him.


	25. Those in Exile

Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling and I do not own these characters.

A/N: Thanks to WhiteCotton and thesewarmstars who gave so much beta help in this chapter and to Torina, who fought to change one important line. Also, WestWard to Alliot has started compiling a soundtrack for this story starting from chapter one. It can be found at west-to-alliot dot livejournal dot com. Her enthusiasm for putting music to the story has truly humbled me and I'm very impressed with how her work is progressing.

Thank you to everyone who's reviewed. Your comments continue to inspire me and I thank you for reading.

* * *

-

"Only solitary men know the full joys of friendship. Others have their family; but to a solitary and an exile his friends are everything." Warren G. Harding

-

Harry was standing at the top of the Astronomy Tower on Saturday afternoon, ignoring the pangs of hunger cramping his stomach and trying to distract himself with the sunny weather.

But, as had been the case for the past week, no relief was imminent and he closed his eyes and once again tried to ignore the ache caused by the absence of Severus. He ran a hand through his hair and looked down to the ground, casting his attention on Fang, who was lazily napping in the shade of Hagrid's hut.

"Harry?"

Harry turned around and broke into a wide smile at the sight that greeted him. Remus was standing in the doorway with a picnic basket in hand, smiling tentatively from the shadows.

He'd never been so incredibly happy to see Remus in all his life. At once, Harry felt great relief at seeing his friend and walked over to him, extending his hand.

Remus laid down the basket, took Harry's hand in his, and pulled him into a full embrace.

Harry was a bit surprised at the friendly gesture, but hugged Remus back, intending it to be a short, friendly greeting; he quickly found himself holding onto the man for dear life. His arms clung around Remus' shoulders and he closed his eyes, burying his nose in the collar of his robes.

_Thank God you're here._

Remus seemed to know what Harry needed and he held him tighter, not letting go until Harry pulled away a few seconds later.

His heart slightly lighter than it had been just moments before, Harry smiled and clasped Remus' shoulder, the other man allowing the gesture with a smile.

Remus picked up the basket once again and said, "Dumbledore thought you might be more inclined to eat if food were brought to you."

Harry laughed, the feeling a welcome relief after the sadness of the last week. "Thank you. It's so good to see you, Remus."

Remus smiled and said, "And you. Would you like to eat up here or in my rooms?"

The thought of entering the castle when the afternoon was so lovely was not appealing to Harry in the least and he shook his head. "No, let's just eat here."

Remus nodded and they went to lean against the wall, sitting in the shadows with only their feet reaching the sunshine. Remus took out sandwiches and coleslaw, handing Harry his. Harry was careful to remove the tomato before he began eating.

The silence was a comforting one and Harry allowed himself to enjoy it, attempting to ignore the still-present ache that was his constant companion. They ate in silence, neither man feeling compelled to talk, but both knowing a very important conversation was pending.

Once Harry had finished his fruit, he leaned back and looked at his hands. There was an apple seed stuck to his palm and his hands were pleasantly sticky. He wiped them with a napkin slowly as he finally asked, "So, I take it Dumbledore told you what happened?"

Remus nodded. "Yes, he told me... In great detail, I might add."

Harry winced and asked the question whose answer he had no desire to know. "Are you angry with me?"

Remus was quiet for a moment and so Harry looked over, slightly fearful of what he would find.

Remus was frowning, but looked thoughtful. "Angry? No, of course I'm not angry. Surprised, yes. But why would I be angry?"

Harry ran a hand through his hair and counted the reasons. "Well, for starters he's a he."

Remus made a sputtering sound and waved his hand, as though what Harry had said was not even worth addressing.

Harry didn't relax, however. He hadn't thought that Remus would be the kind to look down on a gay relationship, but he'd had to be sure. That had been the least of his worries. Remus might not frown on a relationship with another man, but there were a host of other reasons he could disapprove of Severus.

"And well... He is your age. My dad's age."

Remus nodded slowly, as though he was choosing his words carefully. "Yes, there is that. But I'll tell you what I told Severus- I think I can understand why you would want someone older than you. You've faced trials that would leave most adults running in fear. You and Severus have similar pasts and a common bond that connects you to Voldemort. I can see why someone like Severus would appeal to you. Really, Harry, I'm not angry."

Harry was relieved to hear that Remus wouldn't judge... whatever his relationship with Severus was because of the age difference, but one thing stuck out to him.

"You spoke to Severus?"

Remus smiled sadly. "I did. I told him the exact same thing I just told you... in August."

"What?" Harry said, confused. "What do you mean? We were only bonded last week."

Remus' smile faded and he looked at Harry gravely. "Harry, I don't think you realize just how much Severus loves you or how long he's loved you."

Harry looked away and played with his fingers again. "Since the infirmary, he said. Since the night he almost died. He said-" he broke off and cleared his throat. "Um-" Harry felt a shudder go through him as he recalled how Severus had told him of how he knew some kind man had come to him, but that he had not known it was Harry. Flashes of memory swept through him of how Severus had called him beautiful. His thoughts lingered on the kiss they shared and how Severus had looked at him...

He cursed himself and put the memory away, focusing on his conversation with Remus.

"He said he's loved me since then."

Remus nodded. "Severus is not a very demonstrative man, Harry, but I've known he was in love with you for months now. For all his talents for hiding himself away, he just couldn't help the way he would look at you."

Harry clenched his teeth and gave a bark of laughter. "Yeah," was all he said in response.

"I knew you were in love with him, as well."

Harry turned and looked at Remus. "You knew? How could you have known when I didn't know?"

Remus shrugged. "You're a young man and... well, love hasn't come easily to you. And I suspect you never thought it would come in the form of Severus Snape."

Harry shook his head. No, he had spent the summer in awful confusion, not knowing what it was he felt for Severus. It wasn't until Severus had kissed him that he had finally realized...

He groaned before he could help himself and forced his thoughts back to the present.

"How did you know, Remus?"

Remus laughed and flung an arm over Harry's shoulder. "Well, I was a bit suspicious when Severus was fully healed and yet neither of you wanted to leave the little nest you'd made for yourselves. Or perhaps it was the way you were always talking about him on our daily visits. Or it could have been the way I felt like a third wheel whenever I was around the both of you."

Harry smiled as he recalled what Remus was talking about. It had only been that one time, but it had been odd when Remus had entered Severus' lab. He had been happy to see his friend, but it was as though he had been interrupting something that Harry hadn't understood until now.

"But it was the same as Severus, Harry. It was the way you looked at him. There was no mistaking the look in your eyes. It was like the sun rose and set just for Severus Snape."

Harry smiled and leaned a bit into Remus. Thinking about it now, he could see how it was a bit obvious.

"So, you approve then? I mean... not that there's much to approve of-" Harry cut himself off as Remus withdrew his arm and his face became devoid of emotion.

"I can't say I approve of what Severus is doing, no. I hate what he's done to you, Harry. And the fact that the bond is unbreakable-"

"Yes, but," Harry nervously interjected. "Look, I know it looks awful right now, but Remus, please. I need you with me on this. I-" Harry ran a hand through his hair again and looked at Remus, his eyes full of desperation. "It's only been a week, Remus. It's only been a week, and already I feel like I can't take anymore-"

Harry buried his face in his hands and tried to control himself. He couldn't fall apart; it would hurt Severus.

"You don't know what it's like. He's in pain... all the time. He hates himself so much, and I just- All I want is for him to trust me, but he doesn't. I tried to tell him that I loved him and I..."

Harry clenched his fists as his desperation grew. "He doesn't believe me when I say I love him. He thinks I'm some child, that I don't know what I want, and he thinks he's some monster that shouldn't be allowed anywhere near me."

"Well, in all honestly, Harry, I would have preferred you put off making a life-long decision like this bonding for a few years-"

Harry turned to Remus and glared. "Severus didn't choose this and neither did I. What did you want us to do? Say 'sorry, Fate, can you give us about eighteen months or so?'"

Remus didn't laugh. "I'm being honest, Harry. I told Severus the same thing in August. It would be easier for me to approve if you had waited a year or two."

Harry looked down at his hands again. "Yeah, well it's a bit late for that now. And besides, I know what I want. I know who I want and I think I've been through enough in my life to know myself, alright?"

Remus nodded and was silent for a moment. "Alright. I trust you."

"Do you?" Harry asked as he met Remus' gaze again.

"Yes," Remus said. "If you say you need me with you on this, then I'm with you."

"So you would approve... I mean..."

"If Severus were a completely different person?"

Harry protested. "You're exaggerating. He-"

"Severus hates himself, Harry. I would love to give you my full support, but it's a bit difficult when Severus has made his feelings on the matter perfectly clear. Severus hates himself more than you love him, probably even more than he loves you. There's nothing you can do to convince him that he's worthy of you."

Harry didn't want to hear this. He couldn't hear this. He had to have hope that Severus would come around, had to have hope that there was something he could say, something he could do to make Severus feel worthy.

He stood up and frantically paced the tower, running his hands through his hair and trying to refute what Remus had said.

"You can't know that for sure, Remus. You don't know him."

"I know Severus well enough, Harry, and besides that I've known people like him."

Harry shook his head in exasperation. "No, you don't understand."

Harry turned around and ran straight into the other man's chest. He took a few steps back and looked Remus in the eye.

"This is for life! And even if it wasn't, I don't want to give up on him. I love him! I can't give up on him, I have to try, I have to at least have... hope that something, anything-"

"Harry," Remus said, as he grabbed Harry's wrists.

Harry broke away and continued his pacing. "There has to be something I can say, something I can do."

"There's not, Harry. You don't have to give up hope, but you do have to stop beating yourself up. Severus has hated himself longer than you've been alive. There are no easy fixes here, no magic words. If there were, don't you think I would tell you?"

Harry walked over to the edge of the tower, leaning against the wall and putting his face in his hands. His emotions were in turmoil and he could feel Severus' attention on him, wondering what was wrong. Well... More wrong than usual.

He deliberately slowed his breathing and tried to push the pain away, tried to be strong so Severus didn't have to worry about him.

"Is Severus talking to you?"

Harry shook his head. "It doesn't work like that. But he's worried."

"Good. He should be worried. Maybe if he feels what he's doing to you, he'll end this stupidity."

Harry slowly turned to Remus, shocked at what he was hearing. Softly, he asked, "You're not actually implying that I should attempt to manipulate him? _Him_? Of all people?"

Remus shook his head. "No, Harry-"

"'Cause I won't do that to him. I won't force him to be with me just because I-"

"Harry-"

"That's what Malfoy did! He took away his choice, and Severus..." Harry's face was turning red and his face was screwed up in despair. "That's the most important thing to him!"

Remus approached Harry slowly and grabbed his shoulders. "That's not true, Harry. Perhaps it was before, but now he has you."

Harry shook his head, knowing he had failed the man he loved.

"Yes. He has you, Harry. And you need to be patient. There's nothing _you_ can do to change Severus' mind. He has to do that himself."

Harry's body was shaking with the force of his grief and he tore himself away from Remus, sinking down against the castle wall. Remus joined him and they sat in silence while Harry forced himself to calm down.

"How do you know, Remus? I mean, how can you be so sure?"

Remus opened his mouth, then closed it again and smiled. "I knew a girl once... very much like your Severus."

_My Severus_, Harry thought.

It took a moment before Remus' words fully registered in Harry's mind. He immediately felt horrible guilt and turned to Remus apologetically.

"Oh, God! I'm so sorry. I've been so selfish- just talking about myself."

Remus put a hand up to stop Harry's ranting. "It's alright, Harry. It was a long time ago. But I do know what I'm talking about."

Harry nodded and the two sat in silence once again, their minds wandering.

Finally, Harry asked in a small voice, "Were you ever in love?"

Remus smiled painfully and shook his head. "No, I've never been in love, Harry. I can't say I've ever had that pleasure."

"But then how-"

"There was a girl once. Her name was Emma and... she was so beautiful." Remus bent his legs and rested his arms on his knees as his eyes looked at something far away that Harry couldn't see.

"She was a werewolf, too, but she wasn't bitten as a child like I was. She didn't grow up with the curse and... she never adapted the way I did."

"I'm sorry," Harry said softly.

Remus looked over to Harry and smiled sadly. "She hated the curse and she hated herself. She would tell me not to fall in love with her. I used to think that she was being coy, that she wanted me to chase after her."

"Didn't she?" Harry asked.

Remus shook his head in response. "No. She was being honest. She hated herself more than I could have ever loved her."

They were quiet for a moment before Harry asked, "So, what did you do?"

Remus shrugged. "We were together for a while. We were even happy... from time to time." Remus frowned and dug at some dirt that was under his nail. "But what happiness we had never lasted very long. She couldn't trust me, Harry. She couldn't trust that I thought she was worth loving."

Harry felt his heart sink as he thought of Severus. "Did you love her?"

Remus looked over at Harry and looked him in the eye. "No, I didn't. I can't bear to think how horrible it would have been if I had. Her companionship was better than being alone for a while, but..."

"What happened?"

"She ended it. I might have let it go on for a while longer, if only to have someone to keep the sheets warm. She couldn't stand to be around her family, her friends... being what she was."

"Oh," Harry said, thinking the worst. "I'm so sorry."

Remus nodded. "She went to America. Ran away, as it were. The point is, Harry, some people get so lost in their own desperation that they can't see the person willing to rescue them."

Harry nodded and looked at his hands, wanting to look anywhere but at Remus.

"I know you want to rescue Severus, Harry, but he has to want to be rescued."

Harry chuckled sadly. "Severus doesn't seem much like the damsel in distress type."

Remus smiled. "No, he doesn't. But I'm hopeful that he will come around. Don't give up hope."

Harry smiled and gave a bark of laughter. "I can't. He's..."

He trailed off and closed his eyes, needing to feel Severus, all of Severus, understanding that even his pain was a part of him. His lover was there, as he always was, in his agony and Harry allowed himself to be grateful that he was there at all.

"The sun rises and sets for Severus Snape."

Remus nodded and stood up, offering Harry a hand up.

"Do you need to study?"

Harry nodded and ignored the odd change of subject.

"Why don't you get your books and go study in my rooms? They're the same from the summer."

"Alright," Harry said. "Are you coming?"

Remus nodded and said, "I'll be along in a while. There are a few things I have to attend to first."

***********

Severus was sitting in his chair by the fire, his mind focused solely on Harry and the tumultuous state of his emotions. Severus felt every pain, every ounce of despair and desperation, and he wanted nothing more than to find Harry and bring him home.

But that was the one thing he could not do. He had to remain steadfast, had to be strong for Harry. The urge to give in to his lover's wants was threatening to overwhelm his desire to give Harry what he needed.

And he needed to be away from Severus.

He was torn from his thoughts by a knock on his door. He rose slowly from his seat, cursing whichever wayward student dared disturb his peace on a Saturday afternoon when his time should have been his own.

He opened the door and frowned when he found Remus Lupin on the other side, his face almost unrecognizable with its scowl.

Severus scoffed. "If you have come to lecture me, Lupin, I think you will quickly find-"

Severus was cut off as Lupin's fist collided with his nose, Severus wincing and taking a step back from the force of the blow as he felt the cartilage break and blood begin to flow down his face.

"Fuck!" Severus swore uncharacteristically as he cupped his nose. "Lupin! What was that in aid of?"

Lupin crossed the threshold to his rooms, rubbing his knuckles and glaring at Severus before slamming the door behind him.

"Don't look at me that way, Severus, you know you deserved that."

"I know no such thing, and how dare you come into my home simply to accost me-"

"How dare I?"

"-without any provocation whatsoever!"

"No provocation?" Lupin said, his tone revealing that he thought he had every right to be here in Severus' rooms. "'I'll not lay a hand on him,' you said. You promised me, Severus!"

Severus tilted his head back in an attempt to stop the blood gushing from his nose but still managed to make a growling noise as he responded, "I said it would take an act of God for me to touch him. Well, guess what happened, Lupin!"

"Oh, for pity's sake," Lupin said, removing a handkerchief from his pocket and giving it to Severus who quickly put it under his nose. "I didn't hit you that hard."

"No?" Severus said, removing the handkerchief to reveal the already swelling flesh.

Lupin winced, but did not apologize. He looked Severus directly in the eye and said, "You swore, Severus and I took you at your word."

"I assume you've spoken to the headmaster?" At Lupin's nod he continued, "Then you know what happened was not in my control."

"Perhaps not," Lupin conceded, "but what's happened since then was. I never thought you could be so cruel, Severus, so incredibly callous to another human being, let alone the man you claim to love."

"I have never claimed to love anyone," Severus said, knowing it was a lie.

"The bond is a walking claim to Harry, Severus. How you could be so-"

Lupin broke off whatever nonsense he was about to spout when the door busted open and Harry charged into the room, brandishing his wand and out of breath, looking as though he had run the entire distance from Gryffindor Tower to the dungeons.

He stood there panting, taking in the scene: Severus' face bloodied and Lupin still holding the hand with which he had hit him.

Severus saw the instant Harry calmed enough to realize what had happened. His body deflated from its fighting stance and he lowered his wand. Green eyes roamed over Severus' face and he guessed what he must look like.

"Oh," was all Harry said.

He looked from Severus to Lupin, who finally looked just the smallest bit remorseful. Guilt that Harry had suffered due to his barbaric attack, Severus mused.

"You're hurt," Harry said to Severus, stating the obvious.

Severus tried to shake his head, but his nose would not stop its bleeding. Lupin was stronger than he looked.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked.

Severus met Harry's eyes and for a moment it was as though they were alone.

_Worry_

Severus could feel Harry's concern for him, he could see it in his eyes, which were roaming between his own and the bridge of his bloodied nose.

Harry raised his wand and whispered, '_Episkey_,' and Severus winced as he felt his nose set, the cartilage snapping back together and healing.

"Thank you," he said softly.

Harry nodded and seemed to force himself to turn away, casting his gaze upon Lupin as his face made his anger known.

"We'll talk about this later, Remus."

Lupin nodded and they both watched as Harry walked to the door, leaving quietly, defeated. Severus deflated completely, no longer caring that he had been accosted so savagely in his own home. He left Lupin standing near his door, looking lost and confused, and headed to the bathroom. He made quick work of washing his face, wincing a bit as he rinsed over the bruises that a healing spell could not remove.

He did not look at himself in the mirror.

He pulled what he liked to refer to as his 'emergencies only' bottle of Talisker from the bottom of a dresser drawer and went back to his sitting room.

He did not expect Lupin to still be there, yet there he stood.

His face no longer looked so remorseful, but he seemed calmer than before. Severus sighed and realized that Lupin was not going to leave anytime soon, not before he'd had his say. Relenting, Severus took two glasses that rested on his bookcase to the sofa, where he sat down with none of his usual grace.

"I am not going to invite you to sit down, Lupin," he said as he poured.

Lupin sank down onto the sofa and took the drink Severus offered him, tossing it back quickly, then cradling the glass in his hands.

Severus did the same and then poured them both another. This one they sipped in silence as they stared into the fire.

"This is very good, Severus. I don't think I've ever had such good Scotch before."

"Doubtful," Severus said, choosing not to reveal that he bought only one bottle of the forty-five year old malt each year and that he planned on finishing it presently. Why he was sharing it with this man was beyond him.

They sat in silence for a few moments and sipped their drinks, both men counting down to what was coming.

"How can you stand to look at him like that?" Lupin said, finally breaking his silence. "How can you stand knowing what he's going through?" Lupin asked, still not looking at Severus.

Severus wanted nothing more than to take his Scotch back and throw the wolf out of his rooms, but he was far too tired. "I can stand it because I know the alternative is damnation... for both of us. I would not do that to him. He will find another... eventually."

"My God," Lupin whispered, shaking his head. He turned his body so he could face Severus. "And what about you, Severus? You say that you're doing this for Harry, but I know you well enough-"

"You do not know me at all," Severus snapped, turning to face Lupin as well.

"I know you well enough to know that this has gone on for far too long! When are you going to forgive yourself for things that happened damn near twenty years ago?"

Severus sneered and sipped the rest of his drink, pouring himself another. "You know nothing."

"I know that your self-hatred, your selfish clinging to the past, is doing nothing but hurting Harry. If you can't forgive yourself, then at least allow Harry to forgive you."

"Harry will be fine... in time. He is young and this is his first... entanglement. He will find another."

Lupin slammed his glass down on the side table. "There will be no other for either of you. Why would you do this to yourself, do this to him?"

"I fail to understand why you think you have the right to ask such questions!" Severus yelled, his rage at Lupin's audacity finally reaching its peak.

Lupin picked up his empty glass and grasped it tightly in his hands. "I know you don't think it, Severus, but I like to think we're friends."

"We are not friends," Severus said, his teeth clenched.

"Oh, yes," Lupin said, in a mocking tone. "Because Merlin forbid Severus Snape ever have a friend."

Severus rolled his eyes. "If you are looking for heartfelt confession and tearful breakdowns, you are looking in the wrong place."

"No, Severus," Lupin said as he chuckled. "Because Merlin forbid Severus Snape ever show any emotion other than anger, annoyance or irritation."

"Will you be quiet? I rarely imbibe alcohol, and this happens to be a very good Scotch and you are ruining it with your incessant chatter."

"No."

Severus put down his glass and leaned back into the sofa, quite exhausted all of a sudden.

"Will you stop this, Severus, please? If not for yourself, then for Harry? Be selfless and let him come to you. You must know how this is killing him-"

"More than you would know," Severus replied hastily.

"Then end this," Lupin said, gravely.

Severus looked away towards the fire, not willing to be browbeaten by any man in his own home, over his own affairs.

The silence lingered for a moment and was surprisingly comfortable, given the subject they were discussing. Severus poured both of them another drink and Lupin seemed to reassemble.

"How long are you going to continue this... life?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"This solitude you call your life, Severus. How long can it go on? Do you plan on living alone, having neither friend nor lover until you die?"

"My death is more than likely not as far off as you would think."

Lupin shook his head. "I can't believe that. I can't believe that you would enter into a life bond with Harry only to die in the war. Fate can't be that cruel."

Severus laughed bitterly. "No?"

Lupin shook his head. "I can't believe that."

Severus continued his dark, humorless laughter. "Dumbledore must not have told you the entire story, then."

Lupin frowned, but Severus would not explain himself. It was not his story to tell.

"The headmaster is insistent that it had to be this bond, that this _particular_ bond had to be used to defeat the Dark Lord, and yet he chooses to ignore one of its main components," Severus said quietly.

"He said it wouldn't come to that. He wouldn't allow it."

Severus shrugged. "He will not have a choice in the matter. I will give Harry anything he requires to defeat the Dark Lord and live. Anything."

"Alright," Lupin said, slapping Severus' leg, earning a raised eyebrow from the man. "So you would gladly sacrifice your life so Harry could defeat Voldemort, but you have a problem with maturing the bond in the first place?"

Severus sneered and cursed Dumbledore for telling Lupin about that.

"How can you help Harry if you can barely share your power?"

"It is matured enough- Lupin, this is none of your affair!"

"You and Harry are both my friends- Oh, don't roll your eyes at me, Severus. I can call you my friend if _I_ want to! And besides that, I happen to live in this world. I won't see it fall apart because of your selfishness."

"Ah, we finally come to the heart of the matter," Severus said, as he thought that self-protection made much more sense than Lupin's rambling about any supposed friendship.

Lupin sighed and deflated, Severus' last comment seeming to take the fight right out of him.

"Think what you'd like, Severus, but... You know, I don't think I've ever seen you happy- not once in all my years of knowing you."

"Please, Lupin, spare me your useless melodrama. I believe I've had quite enough for today."

Lupin leaned forward, putting his elbows on his legs and cradling his head in his hands.

"The bottom line is this- Harry is a good man, Severus. He would be good to you, good for you, if you'd let him. What has to happen for you to realize that? His death?"

Severus snapped his head to the other man, his fist clenched around his glass. "He will not die."

Lupin glared and said, "He might. This is a war; there are no guarantees."

Severus shook his head. "The bond-"

"Means nothing to you."

Severus wanted to protest. To say that protecting Harry meant everything, but that wasn't what Lupin was speaking of.

"I think he's angry with me," Lupin said, speaking of Harry. He looked over at looked at Severus with scorn. "I'm not sorry I hit you."

Severus chuckled darkly. "No, of course not."

Lupin stood up and placed his glass on the end table, wavering slightly as he stood. He walked over to Severus and grasped his shoulder.

For the life of him, Severus couldn't understand why he allowed it.

"You are worthy of him, Severus. I just hope you realize it before it's too late."

Lupin started to walk away, his steps slightly more steady before he turned back and took the bottle from Severus' end table.

"Going to borrow this."

Severus rolled his eyes and mourned the loss of his drink, but as he knew who it was for, he allowed the theft and turned to the fire as Lupin left.

************

Remus strolled carefully up the stairs to Gryffindor Tower, not quite used to drinking so much so quickly. He opened the door to his rooms and found Harry pacing the length of his hearth. Harry opened his mouth, anger clearly written on his face, but Remus held up a hand as he closed the door.

"Harry, I-"

"You shouldn't have done that, Remus!"

"I know, and I'm sorry if what I did hurt you-"

"You hurt _him_! And of course it hurt me! I thought he was being attacked! I didn't know what had happened and all I knew was that he was hurt and I wasn't there, and..." Harry cut himself off and began his pacing again.

"Harry, please sit down," Remus said, standing in Harry's way as he turned to pace across the room again.

"I wasn't there, Remus, and he needed me!"

"Severus is fine-"

"No, he's not! He's not fine, he's never fine. He needs me and he won't let me help him," Harry said frantically, his face twisted in fear and panic.

"Harry, listen to me," Remus said, putting his hands on Harry's shoulders. "Severus is going to be fine as long as he remains in Hogwarts. There's still time for you two. I promise, Harry," Remus said as he pulled Harry close to him in a firm embrace.

Harry allowed it and Remus felt the slight shudders that ran through Harry's body.

_Damn you, Severus._

"You shouldn't have hit him," Harry said, his voice muffled by Remus' shirt.

"No, I shouldn't have hit him," Remus lied.

Harry nodded and held Remus tighter. They remained like that for a moment before Harry pulled away, seeming calmer and clear-headed once again.

Remus gestured to the chairs and they sat down, companionable silence filling the room.

"I'm not a girl, you know," Harry said suddenly.

"What?" Remus asked, confused, the alcohol still making his mind a bit hazy.

"I'm not a girl and you're not my father. You don't have to protect me or go off hitting people when... You don't have to do that. I can take care of myself, you know? I always have."

Remus smiled at Harry's concerns and took the bottle of Scotch from his pocket.

"No, I'm not your father, Harry. But I am your friend, and believe it or not, I'm Severus' friend as well."

Harry perked up at that, as though he was glad that someone was Severus' friend.

"So it was a friendly punch?" Harry said with a small smile.

Remus chuckled. "It was a 'for your own good' punch."

"Don't tell me you didn't get any satisfaction from hitting him," Harry said in joking tone.

Remus shook his head and summoned two glasses from his small kitchen.

"Have you finished your studying?"

"For the day, yeah," Harry said, watching as Remus poured two generous measures.

"Good. As I said, I'm not your father, but I am your friend. Your misery is mine, Harry."

"Thank you, Remus," Harry said, smiling sadly and accepting his glass.

"What are friends for if not... times like these?" Remus said, sipping his drink.

"Cheers," Harry said, clinking their glasses and trying not to make a face as he took too great a sip. Remus was tempted to laugh but didn't want to break the tentative peace, eager to give Harry any small happiness he could.

With great trepidation, Harry began to speak. "I'm afraid, Remus." His knuckles were white as he held his glass with both hands. He looked at Remus with eyes that had seen too little sleep and far too much worry.

"If anyone could handle Severus Snape-"

"But what if I can't? What if I'm not enough?" Harry waved his drink around and gestured to himself then downwards towards the dungeons.

"You are enough, Harry," Remus said, willing Harry to believe it.

"But what if I'm not?" Harry asked desperately, begging Remus to give him an honest answer.

Remus smiled sadly and put a hand on Harry's shoulder, giving him the truth he needed to hear. "You are."


	26. Two Characters in Search of an Exit

Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling and I make nothing from this story.

Warnings: This story continues to be rated M. I will not warn when for slash sex or violence so please consider every chapter not safe for work.

A/N: Thanks to thesewarmstars who helped build this chapter. Thanks to WhiteCotton for a wonderful beta and to Torina for a good plot check.

On a personal note, I'd like to thank you all for coming with me on this journey. This story is my heart's love and I'm very grateful for every single one of you, especially in these difficult chapters. I'll hold your hand if you hold mine.

* * *

Two Characters in Search of an Exit

*

The following Saturday found Severus in very much the same position as the last.

_Truly, this is becoming ridiculous_, he thought while sitting in his chair, contemplating the fire and the depression that Harry was falling further and further into.

Something had to be done.

Severus had been teetering on the edge of his control for days now and could see no relief on the horizon. He had known this would be difficult, known it would be no easy task to feel Harry suffer in this manner. He had gone the distance through so many trials. His life as a spy in both wars had taught him the necessity of patience and endurance.

But as much as he was loath to admit it, Harry's pain was something he could no longer tolerate. He feared what was left of his control would soon slip through his fingers if he did nothing to ease Harry's suffering.

The question became how he could do so without giving his bondmate false hope, for if he were to call Harry to him, that would undoubtedly happen. He had no desire to feel Harry's spirits fall further or see the light leave his eyes again.

So what could he do? He needed to see Harry, needed to comfort him and speak with him, but how could he accomplish this?

Suddenly, his mind drifted towards his office and the safe that was hidden behind the framed picture of a bubbling cauldron. He rose and went to the other room, muttering the password that protected the Order's most precious potions.

Slowly, he reached for the last potion he and Harry had made together, asking himself if he was capable of doing what he was currently considering.

He gripped the bottle in his hand, plans already forming in his head, thinking that this _had_ to work.

************

Severus knocked on the door, hoping the wolf would be in his rooms and praying Harry wouldn't be with him. Quidditch practice had ended a few hours before, and Harry could very well be studying with Lupin, as he had been apt to do for the past week.

He tapped his foot unhappily as he heard rustling inside and a friendly, "Just a moment," from the wolf in question.

Lupin opened the door widely, clearly expecting it to be someone else, which was a good sign that Harry was not there yet. His face quickly fell at his discovery of Severus at his door.

"Severus?" he asked with obvious perplexity. "To what do I owe-"

"Is Potter here?" Severus interrupted, poking his head inside to assure himself that Harry would not overhear their conversation.

Lupin frowned. "Harry? No, I think he's in the library with Hermione. Why do you- ah! Severus!" Lupin yelped inelegantly and grabbed at his own head, from which Severus had just plucked a hair.

Severus hastily pushed the other man inside the room and closed the door behind them.

"Severus! Why did you do-" Lupin broke off as Severus removed a flask from his pocket and put the hair inside it, making the answer to his question more than obvious.

"Is that what I think it is?" Lupin asked gravely.

"That would depend upon what you think this is," Severus said, hiding the flask in his pocket once again.

Lupin drew his wand from his robes far faster than Severus would have thought possible, and he moved to do the same.

"What are you playing at?" Lupin asked.

"I am simply returning the favor you paid me over the summer, Lupin. The idea of another man walking around in your skin suddenly not so appealing to you?"

"What are you going to do?" Lupin asked, his voice low, eyeing Severus' pocket and no doubt wondering whether it was possible to retrieve the flask.

"That is none of your business-"

"It bloody well is my business if you're planning what I think you're planning."

"Again, Lupin, I have no idea what _you_ think I am planning."

Lupin sneered and extended his hand, his palm up. "Give it to me, Severus. Why would you need to be me? What on earth could you be planning that you would need to walk around in my skin?"

Severus glared and looked Lupin directly in the eye. "I need to see Potter."

Under any other circumstances, the confusion on Lupin's face might have been amusing. "You want to see Harry?"

Severus scoffed and said, "Is something wrong with your hearing, Lupin?"

"Why would you need Polyjuice to see Harry? He's been dying to speak to you for two weeks. If you asked him, he would be here in a moment." Lupin smiled and laughed in what seemed to be relief. "You have no idea how glad I am to hear you say this, Severus. What happened that changed your mind?"

Severus cleared his throat. "You are laboring under a misapprehension, Lupin. Nothing has changed. I merely wish to see Harry. I need to- I wish to see him for myself... to see for myself that he is not... suffering unduly."

The smile faded from Lupin's face as quickly as it had come. "You wish to see Harry... because you want to see how badly he is suffering?"

"I wish to assure myself that he enduring. That he is coping with the pain of separation well enough, and-"

"You miss him."

Severus raised an eyebrow but did not lower his gaze. He had lied to better men with a straight face; this would be no different. "Hardly. I wish to know that he is moving on, that he is not romanticizing what brief thing occurred between us-"

"Liar. You feel guilty." Lupin scoffed and turned away from Severus, going to sit in his chair. "You've been pushing Harry away for weeks and now suddenly you want to see him? There's no end to your selfishness, is there, Severus?"

"Don't you dare call me selfish! I may be many things, but I am not that. Everything I have done has been for Harry and you have no idea-"

"I have no idea? If I didn't know for certain that you feel everything he feels, I wouldn't think it was possible. How you've managed to do this-"

"I will not have this argument again!" Severus cried, his body stiff and his fists clenched. "I need to see Potter and I require your help to do so."

"You miss him so much you can't see straight. Is that control you're so very proud of finally slipping?"

Severus clenched his teeth and fumed at Lupin for having guessed the real reason for his need to see Harry. Though he was loath to admit it, he acknowledged that he needed Lupin's help if he was to successfully see his bondmate. His need to see Harry seemed to be growing exponentially by the moment.

"I need to see him, and I require your help to do so," Severus repeated.

"No," Lupin said plainly, standing and ushering Severus to the door. "If you want to see Harry, then do it as yourself. He's wanted nothing more for weeks now, and it would do you both good to see each other. Maybe he could make you see reason-"

"I do not wish to give him false hope. Nothing has changed, Lupin... I merely need to see him."

Lupin sighed and looked at Severus with pity. "Well, perhaps it's something that you even admit to needing him." Severus was about to protest the difference between needing Harry and needing to see him, but Lupin continued talking. "Fine. If you need to see him so badly, I'll call him up here. I'm sure Madam Pince can fetch him. I'll even stay in the room if you'd like, just to make sure-"

Lupin went to his mantel to collect some Floo powder, but Severus took two long strides and grabbed his arm at the wrist, stopping him.

"I cannot- not with the way he would look at me-" Severus cut himself off and rubbed his temples. He had not wanted to admit that, but his desperation for Harry was forcing him to do whatever was necessary in order to see him.

"Perhaps you should see the way he looks at you. Maybe that will knock some sense into you."

Severus wanted nothing more than to damn Lupin to the deepest layer of hell, but held his tongue. "I see him every day and it- it is difficult looking at him... even in a room full of people." He had not wanted to admit that.

"He loves you."

Severus closed his eyes and shook his head, not wanting to appear at such dire straits, but was unable to hide his need.

"I need to see him," he repeated.

"Then see him. I am not stopping you."

Lupin walked to the door and opened it, glaring as if he wanted to throw him out.

Severus stood still, unable to move from his spot, his heart heavy with grief and longing for his bondmate.

"Remus," Severus said softly, his voice taking on a note of desperation.

Lupin looked over to Severus, his face straight but his eyes taking an interest in what Severus was saying.

"Remus, please. I need to see him," Severus said, addressing his old colleague in a way he never had before, hoping he would understand how desperately he needed his help.

Lupin closed the door.

He rubbed his face with his hand and then cupped his cheek in frustration. "Why can't you see him as yourself?"

"Because I am at the very end-" Severus cleared his throat and tried to gain control over his emotions. "Because I do not think I could have him look at me and be able to resist him. I think- That man has too much power over me and if he only asked-" Severus broke off and looked Lupin in the eye. "Because I cannot give in." He shook his head. "You may think it is the height of selfishness, but I tell you it is not. I cannot give in but I _need to see him_. "Please," Severus said, openly pleading.

Lupin sighed and rubbed his face with his hand again. "If I do this for you, you have to promise me something."

"Anything," Severus said, surprising himself that he had agreed so swiftly, not bothering to ask what it was Lupin wanted from him.

"Harry is-" Lupin sighed and seemed to consider his words before continuing. "He's sad, Severus. He's very close to something horrible."

"I know how close he is to desperation."

"He hit desperation a week ago, I think. I believe he's very close to breaking down altogether. I need you to promise me that you will not use my face to turn him away."

Severus began to protest, but Lupin cut him off.

"No, Severus. He needs to have hope. If you need to have your control, he needs to have the hope that you will come around eventually. It's the only thing keeping him going. If you take that away from him, he'll have nothing left."

Severus had not planned on using Lupin's face to convince Harry to stay away from him; the idea had not occurred to him. He only wanted to speak with Harry, be in his presence for more than a passing moment or in a room full of people.

_Merlin, how he missed Harry._

"I swear I will do nothing to dissuade him. I only wish to see him for a while, Lupin, I promise."

Lupin nodded and said, "Alright then." He sighed and scratched the back of his head, tossing the graying hair up into disarray.

"You'll need to change. My bedroom's through there. There aren't many robes, but you'll probably see the ones I wear on a daily basis. Um-" Lupin looked around, no doubt realizing there was more to a person than just a face.

"We usually have tea around now, so there's no need to call him. He stops by every day, you know?"

Severus said nothing to that, and began to look around the rooms, thinking of questions he needed to ask so he could successfully play the part.

"Do you have a usual cup?" he asked, gesturing to the tea service.

Lupin looked at the Hogwarts standard china and shook his head. "No. Severus, I know you think you can play the part, but there are aspects to my relationship with Harry that you know nothing about."

Although he knew Lupin couldn't be speaking about anything inappropriate, he frowned and glared at the man.

Lupin rolled his eyes. "I mean that we have camaraderie. Harry's very open with me, he has no problem touching my arm or my shoulder and I do the same with him. Do you really think you'll be able to pull that off?"

"You were able to do so in front of Draco Malfoy, a feat I had not thought possible, but you did do it."

Lupin nodded, but said, "Yes, but it's not so difficult to make a straight face and act as though the entire world is irritating you. Being friendly... Well, I don't think I've ever seen you be friendly. Not even with Harry."

Severus sighed and conceded the fact, but it did not matter. "I have kept my true allegiances secret from the most powerful Legilimens alive. I believe I can hide my identity from a young man well enough."

"Are you even capable of smiling?" Remus asked seriously.

Severus gave his most disturbing grin, answering Lupin's question silently.

Lupin shuddered. "Practice that in the mirror." They were silent for a moment before Lupin said, "He'll talk about you."

"I know."

Lupin nodded, then cast _tempus_. "I think I'll go down to Hogsmeade for a few hours. That should give you the time you need."

Severus nodded and walked Lupin to the door, feeling only the slightest tinge of guilt for putting the man out of his own rooms.

"Severus..." Lupin said, trailing off as he stood on the threshold. "Be kind to him."

Severus nodded, acknowledging that he wanted to do nothing less, and lamented needing Lupin's face to do it.

************

The first thing Severus thought as the polyjuice transformed his body was how in the seven layers of hell Lupin could stand to be in this kind of pain on a constant basis.

The second was that he had no desire to see the man undressed and so he averted his eyes as he pulled up the borrowed shorts and trousers, pulling on a shirt and tattered robe as quickly as he could, hoping Lupin had given him the same courtesy.

He adjusted his robes, unused to the soft, threadbare fabric against his skin. He put on Lupin's worn loafers and turned to look at himself in the mirror.

Well, he certainly looked like Remus Lupin, but any resemblance disappeared when he looked himself in the eyes. They were brown, but any resemblance to Lupin's easy-going kindness ended there. They contained the same harsh glare Severus had worn since he was a teenager.

He looked at himself and tried to think of some happy thought.

_Harry_. He thought of Harry and...

_Depression_

_Hopelessness_

No, that was not his happiest thought at the moment. Perhaps Harry and how they had lived together during the summer, both of them so content...

_Blast._

Severus brought up fingers not as long and slender as his own and rubbed his temples.

He stopped himself. He couldn't do things like that, gestures that Lupin did not make himself. He practiced ruffling up the back of his hair in the mirror the way Lupin had done when they were speaking.

There, that was more like Lupin.

Alright, back to the eyes.

Happy memory, happiness, something, anything not so-

Severus sighed and tossed up the back of his hair again, just for practice. It was odd touching hair shorter and coarser than his own. He ran his hand through it and realized that one side was a bit longer than the other. He scoffed.

Lupin cut his own hair. He did the same for himself, but then it was very easy to cut something in a straight line. Lupin obviously hadn't mastered the light feathering that he attempted to hide the gray. Not that it was doing any good, Severus thought as he patted down the hair he had scuffed up.

He sighed and looked again at Lupin's reflection, his own harsh eyes and firm scowl making it seem as though Lupin had just been given some inferior chocolate.

He sighed again. Surely it shouldn't be this difficult to look happy. Merlin knew Lupin had nothing to be happy about, but he seemed to manage just fine.

Perhaps something happy wasn't necessary to drive away the demons that seemed to haunt his eyes even in their current guise.

He thought of his potions lab and his library and his collection of rare Dark Arts books.

There. He didn't look quite so miserable anymore. Now just to keep the darkness from his eyes and move on to his mouth.

Lupin's muscles seemed to be quite used to smiling and so that came far easier to Severus than it ever had before. He practiced the smile he had seen Lupin give in greeting, that small one coming easily enough.

Next, he smiled the full smile that Lupin tended to give when someone said something he thought was funny.

_Must remember to find things funny_, he thought.

Right, now to practice the laugh. Severus rarely laughed, and when he did, it was a small, low chuckle. In fact, he laughed so seldom that he was actually capable of remembering the last time he had done so.

That time in the summer with the dead billywig.

Severus sighed and looked in the mirror, then began thinking of his Dark Arts collection again.

He tried to replicate Lupin's broad grin and ended up frightening himself. Perhaps a little less teeth... yes, there it was.

A few minutes later, he was confident he could mimic Lupin's chuckle, but seemed incapable of producing the deep laughter Lupin called forth so easily.

He gave it up as a lost cause.

Some minutes after that, he heard a knocking on the outside door and his heart leapt in his chest.

_Harry_, he thought before fighting to gain control of his emotions. Harry would not be able to tell where Severus was through the bond, but if Severus allowed his emotions to be manipulated by the conversation...

He shook his head and put on his greeting smile, storming out of the room.

_No, no, mustn't storm_, he thought, backing up and walking with Lupin's smaller steps.

Suddenly, he patted his pockets and remembered something.

"_Accio_ chocolate," he said in Lupin's voice. The confection whizzed up to him and he caught it, thrusting it into his pocket. How could he have forgotten the chocolate?

He walked slowly to the door, remembering to call out 'just a moment' the way Lupin had when he had first gained entrance to his rooms.

He steeled himself, thought of his Dark Arts collection while assuring himself that the grin was painted on his face, and opened the door...

Only to find his breath taken away by the vision that greeted him.

Harry looked smaller than he had seemed the last time Severus had been alone in his company. His fatigue was portrayed in the way his shoulders were slumped and the dark circles under his eyes.

Severus could feel his suffering through the bond, had seen it in the Potions classroom and the Great Hall, but witnessing it up close was something far different.

Yet regardless of how awful Harry looked, it was still Harry in front of him and the sight was enough to make his heart beat faster.

He'd almost allowed himself to forget how very beautiful Harry was, even in his anguish. How bright his eyes were and how broad his shoulders, even when he slouched. His hair was in disarray and Severus thought he could see a blade of grass strewn about the mess.

His lips were pale and far too chapped, but Severus had to restrain himself from kneading them with his own; his desire to kiss Harry, to taste him and hold him threatening to break his resolve.

Severus stood still and attempted to regain his control even as his entire being told him to grab Harry and drag him to bed, begging to allow himself to believe he could ever be worthy of this young man.

"Remus?" Harry asked softly. "Are you alright?"

Severus blinked, suddenly realizing how long he had been staring and the skin in which he was doing it.

He plastered on the greeting smile and hoped his eyes didn't give too much away. "I'm fine, Harry. Come in!" he said, probably a bit too cheerfully.

"Alright," Harry said tentatively. He went and sat in a chair by the fire without being asked, demonstrating how comfortable he was in Lupin's room. "Are you sure you're alright?"

Severus nodded and smiled, pouring the tea and then coming and sitting in the chair opposite Harry, giving him what he thought of as the nicer cup.

"I'm fine, Harry. Just a bit tired with the full moon approaching," Severus said, improvising. He was quite fortunate that what he had said was true and that such an easy lie was available.

"Oh," Harry said, his eyes lowering to his teacup. "Is Severus- Will he be-"

Severus knew instantly what Harry wanted to ask and thought it odd that until now he had not thought to make the Wolfsbane that Lupin would need to pass the full moon unscathed.

Still, if it would take the darkness from Harry's eyes, he would do it. "Yes, actually, I've spoken with Severus and he's agreed to make my potion."

Harry looked relieved and Severus smiled and congratulated himself for bringing some happiness to his bondmate. "Oh, good. That's- that's good of him. I'm glad."

Severus sipped his tea and silence fell upon them, Harry occasionally looking up and smiling.

It was an easy camaraderie and Severus could understand what Lupin had meant when he had described their friendship. Suddenly, he was immensely glad that Lupin was here, glad that Harry had someone to speak to in his sorrow.

The blade of grass stuck in Harry's hair was calling out to him and he found his hand nearly twitching to remove it. Lupin had said that he often touched Harry...

"You have a-" Severus cut off as he gestured to the blade of grass stuck in Harry's hair.

"Oh," Harry said, running a hand through his hair, making it messier, but the grass remained elusive...

Which worked in Severus' favor. "Here, let me," he said, smiling. Harry leaned his head forward and Lupin's smaller hands ran through it, Severus savoring the soft messiness before removing the foreign object.

"There," he said, showing it to Harry who smiled and sipped his tea.

"How was practice? Think Gryffindor is going to take the Cup this year?" Severus asked, trying to smile even as he spoke. Honestly, how did Lupin manage to be so consistently cheerful? Did he take a potion?

"I don't know," Harry said plainly. "I really don't care. Furthest thing from my mind right now."

Severus allowed the smile to slip from his face. Harry was no longer interested in Quidditch?

"You've always loved Quidditch, Harry. Why would you take no interest this year?" At Harry's glare, Severus immediately realized his mistake. The tender sadness that had graced Harry's features left him and anger took its place.

"Why-" Harry turned his head and laughed darkly. Severus felt his heart clench in his chest at the sound of it. He had never heard such a sound from Harry, never something so cynical and sarcastic.

"Why do I not care about Quidditch this year? Oh, let's count the reasons. Let's just... just talk about them, because talking about it is so _fucking_ great, right Remus?"

"I didn't mean to upset you, Harry. We can talk about something else-" Severus attempted to calm his bondmate down, but Harry's face was turning red and he could feel the hopelessness and the slow slide of depression through the bond.

"No, Remus, let's talk about Quidditch! Gosh, I sure hope we beat Slytherin this year, because oh- that'll change the outcome of the war, won't it?! I really hope I get to catch the snitch and not Malfoy. Because that matters!"

"Harry, I'm sorry-"

"Let's hope Severus doesn't serve as referee, because you know he'll just give points to Slytherin- and I'll just be so crushed."

"Harry, please calm down."

"I'd just be so crushed, Remus, if Severus were to betray me like that! Because he's been so-" Harry's face was completely red and his breath was coming in pants. His teacup was still in his hand and he clutched it in his fist, then threw it at the wall, the china breaking and scattering all over the floor.

Harry put his head in his hands and Severus sat there silently, not understanding what had just happened. He had never seen Harry's emotions become so out of control so quickly. He sat there feeling completely useless, wanting nothing more than to comfort him.

"I'm sorry," Harry said softly, trying to calm his breathing.

Severus wondered what Lupin would do in this moment. He stood up and went to stand in front of Harry, putting a hand on his shoulder, hoping the firm weight would be enough.

"I shouldn't have said that. Of course your mind is on... other things."

Harry laughed bitterly and Severus nearly recoiled at the harsh sound. "Are we not saying his name today, Remus?"

Severus grew nervous, not knowing how he should address what was happening between Harry and himself. Lupin had said that Harry was nearing a breaking point, but-

Severus closed his eyes and attempted to give Harry what he needed.

"He will come around, Harry. He's-" How did Lupin talk about him when he wasn't around to hear what was being said? "Well, he's-"

"Completely miserable," Harry said picking his head up and patting Lupin's hand. "I'm sorry I yelled at you. You didn't deserve that." Harry pulled his wand from his pocket and said, "_Reparo_. _Accio_." The cup was whole again, and Harry put it back on the tea tray.

"He's completely miserable, Remus, and no matter how many times you and I talk about it, I just can't figure out what to do. Nothing changes. I know you said that it was up to him, but-"

Severus sat down again and listened intently to Harry. He knew what Harry had been feeling for the past weeks, but not what he had been thinking. And what had Lupin been telling him?

Harry sighed.

"I don't know how much more of this I can take," Harry said in a desperate whisper and Severus felt his hopelessness course through the bond. It took all of his remaining strength to cling to his chair.

He had no idea what to say, what to do to ease Harry's suffering, except to take him in his arms and tell him he did want him, that he did love him and he was so incredibly sorry he was not a better man.

He had not wanted to give Harry false hope, and yet that was what he had to do.

"Severus is a very stubborn man, but... I am sure he will come round eventually. Don't give up hope, Harry. You... need to be strong. It will be alright... in the end."

There. Perhaps that would be enough to soothe Harry, if only for a moment.

"How can he stand it, Remus? You don't know what he feels... what he goes through every second of every day! And this has been going on for half his life. I just don't know-" Harry seemed frantic, and he rubbed his eyes from behind his glasses.

"I just feel so fucking useless. What good am I? I should help him; I should go to him, but-"

Guilt flared in Severus as he watched Harry suffer because of his shortcomings. He felt his control slipping and he clenched his hands to his chair, physically willing himself to stay put.

"He deserves so much more than me," Harry whispered, angry tears finally beginning to fall.

Severus had heard enough.

"There isn't anyone better than you, Harry." And with that, Severus rose from his chair, sunk to his knees, and embraced the man he loved. He felt Harry's desperation as he grasped Severus tightly, wrapping himself around him and burying his nose in the collar of his robes.

Harry sobbed and clung to him, his hands clawing at his shoulders in his weeping, and Severus felt something inside Harry break.

"Oh, God! Please- I can't do this anymore, Remus! Fuck-"

Severus held Harry tighter and felt his own heart break at Harry's suffering. He no longer cared about keeping up his appearance, nor did he care if Harry found him out- all he needed was to comfort Harry in any way he could.

"It'll get better, Harry, I promise. You're so much more than he deserves. Please believe me- you are so much-"

Harry pulled away and wiped his hand eyes with his hand. "What?" Harry asked, pulling out of Severus' embrace.

Severus mentally reviewed what he had just said, finally realizing it was the disparaging comment he had made about himself that Harry was protesting.

"You're- a very good man, Harry. I'm sure that Severus just has a hard time feeling worthy of you."

Harry looked at Severus curiously before sniffing and asking, "Is that what you said?"

Severus nodded, gray hair mixed with brown swishing about. He tried to smile but was afraid he'd end up showing too much teeth and give himself away. He settled for patting Harry's knee again as he sat back on his heels.

"God, I hate this. I hate what it's doing to me." Harry gestured to the tear tracks lingering on his face and said, "Look at me. Look at this!" He scoffed and said, "I'm even annoying myself. I'm glad Severus isn't here- he'd probably be disgusted with me."

Severus felt guilt invade him at the knowledge that Harry thought so little of him. Had he not listened to Harry mourn Weasley during the summer, his young love screaming his pain while Severus could only lie there in silence? Did Harry really believe he would think less of him for the physical evidence of his sadness?

"I'm sure that's not true, Harry. I can't imagine Severus would be that... petty." Even as he said it, he regretted his choice of words, knowing that he had been incredibly petty towards Harry over the years and hoping Harry wouldn't bring it up now.

Dark laughter came from the younger man. "Severus not petty? We are talking about Severus Snape, right? Tall, dark, bonded to me but doesn't want me? That Severus Snape?" Harry sat back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. "Yeah, well maybe he wouldn't, but I wouldn't know. He's not here, is he?"

Severus shook his head. "No, he's not."

"I cried when Sirius died and I cried when Ron died. No one's died and yet here I am crying. God, how pathetic."

"There is nothing wrong with expressing your emotions through tears, Harry. If you allow such emotions to fester, it will only hurt you."

Harry peered at Severus curiously before running a hand through his hair and sighing. "Was it ever like this with Emma?"

_Emma_? _Damn_, Severus thought as he struggled to keep his nerves under control. He mentally reviewed his time at Hogwarts, searching for any Gryffindor named Emma. He could recall none and so he thought of any Emma he may have met during school.

He drew a blank and remained quiet, desperately trying to think of an innocuous answer to Harry's question. Harry, however, was not concentrating on him, instead looking at his hands with a far off-look in his eyes.

"Something's bothering Severus," he whispered. He shook his head. "I need to stop talking about this. So, was it like this with Emma?"

Severus was able to deduce several things in an instant- first, Emma must have been an old girlfriend of Lupin's and it had not ended well. Two, however it had ended, the course of the relationship was similar to the path his and Harry's had taken, so it was safe to assume that Lupin would smile sadly and talk fondly of memories of an old love.

"It was a bit," he mused, taking on what he assumed would be a wistful look in his eye. "But then things are always difficult when love is involved."

_Confusion_

"Love?" Harry asked, his voice soft and tentative. "But you said you never loved her, that it would have been so much worse-"

Harry broke away and looked at Severus, looked deep into his eyes and cut through any happy thoughts of his Dark Arts collection and Severus felt blasted open. He saw the instant Harry realized that something was afoot.

"Remus?" Harry stood up from his chair, quickly causing it to topple over, and he backed away from Severus quickly.

"Harry-" Severus stood up and tried to diffuse the situation.

"What's the password to the Marauder's Map?" Harry asked, suddenly pulling his wand on Severus and taking a step back, his shoulders squared as though facing an enemy.

Severus remained still and put up his hands. "Harry, I know you're upset, but there's no need-"

"What's the password to the Marauder's Map?!" Harry shouted, his anger and panic coursing through Severus.

Severus sighed, conceding defeat. "I have no idea."

Harry looked at Severus incredulously, his wand trained on Severus' chest. He watched as Harry's face fell and his anguish overcame him.

"Severus?" Harry asked in a desperate tone.

Severus nodded, the gray and brown hair swishing about rebelliously. Even Lupin's hair was happier than his.

Harry stood there shocked, his body completely still, moving only to lower his wand. Severus put down his hands but remained quiet, allowing Harry to regroup.

_Anger_

_Betrayal_

_Sadness_

"Why?" Harry whispered desperately. "Why would you do this? Do you want me to suffer? Is your own pain not enough for you, you need mine too?"

Severus' face fell and he was amazed at how badly things had turned so quickly. He had known Harry would be angry if he was caught, angry at the deception, angry at the lie and angry that he had used his friend's face to see him.

But this feeling of betrayal... Severus had no idea where it came from.

"Why would you do this to me?" Harry asked, his face twisted in grief.

Severus had no idea what to say. He had not wanted to give Harry false hope and yet here he stood, expecting to watch the light fade from Harry's eyes once again.

"I... needed to see you."

"Why?" Harry asked with gritted teeth. "And why like this? Why use Remus?"

"I needed to see how you were-"

"You know how I am, you selfish bastard! You know exactly how I am every _goddamned_ second of every _goddamned_ day since you-" Harry trailed off in his anger and he turned his head, trying to regain control of his faculties. "You needed to see me? And so you- what? Stole Remus' body so you could see me without having to talk to me?"

"No, Harry-"

"Yes, that's exactly what you wanted! You wanted to see me, to talk to me, to ask how my day was and talk about Quidditch and-"

Grief and despair raged through Severus and Harry's face twisted in disbelief.

"You wanted to touch me," he whispered. "You wanted to be able to touch my hair and my hands and hold me without letting me hold you."

Severus lowered his gaze, ashamed. He had known that what he wanted had been selfish, but his desire to see Harry had been so great-

"Do you have any idea how much I want to touch you? Do you know how badly I want to look at your face? How badly _I need_ to see your face? But I'm not looking at your face, I'm looking at Remus', you selfish bastard."

"Harry, I realize there is no excuse for my actions, but I needed to see you," Severus said desperately trying to make Harry understand that there had been little choice in the matter.

"You need?" Harry asked, his jaw clenched and his hands balled into fists. "Do you have any idea how much I _need you_? Do you?"

Severus closed his eyes and felt just how quickly Harry was falling apart. He was doing this; he had done this with his selfish desire to see him when he should have just stayed away.

"Yes," he answered plainly.

"And you... liar!" Harry screamed. "'He'll come around eventually, Harry.' You... how could you do that, say that to me?"

Severus opened his eyes to answer Harry. "Because I did not wish to see you so upset. I wanted to give you some small comfort-"

"Even if it was a lie?" Harry asked in a shout.

"Yes," he said again.

Harry nodded and laughed hysterically. "Get out. I don't want to see Remus' face look at me like that anymore."

"Harry, please-" Severus pleaded, no longer above begging to have Harry understand.

"Get out," Harry repeated. "I'll send a house elf with whatever you left here. I just- get out."

Severus nodded and walked to the door, but stopped Harry from opening it with Lupin's smaller hand.

"Who is Emma?" he asked, knowing he might very well be overstepping his boundaries, but his desire to stay in Harry's presence just a moment longer outweighed his manners.

Harry shook his head. "That's none of your business."

Severus looked at Harry, finding it easier to look him in the eye at this height. "You were concerned over her, over something that had happened. Who was she?"

Harry looked at Severus and glared. "She was Remus' you, except he had the good fortune not to fall in love with her."

Severus felt his heart fall even further and he lowered his eyes to the ground.

_Remorse_

At once Severus felt Harry's guilt at the harsh words he had said, but his bondmate said nothing. Severus deserved every harsh word that had come from Harry's mouth and still Harry felt guilt for having hurt him.

Severus really didn't deserve him.

He put his hand on the doorknob but did not open the door. He simply stood there, wishing he could do anything to make this better; anything that could take away Harry's pain.

"Just go," Harry whispered. "I don't want to look at him anymore."

Severus opened the door and walked through it, his back stiff and his expression fallen.

He turned around suddenly, needing to know one more thing. He could not explain the sudden urge to ask this question, except to say that it concerned Harry and Harry concerned him.

"Harry..." he began, and watched his bondmate's face look upon his in grief.

"What?"

"What is the Marauders' Map?"

Harry glared and turned his head away. "Just a spare bit of parchment," he said, before slamming the door in Severus' face.


	27. Interlude III

A/N: This is the last pre-written chapter/scene that I had stored up from before. I am currently approx. 9k away from finishing my Snarry Games fic. I'm hoping to be done by the end of the week and will then immediately write the next chapter. This is just a little interlude since even I was left wondering how Harry would react after the debacle of the last chapter. Enjoy and if anyone wants my head, you can find me at Severus Sighs.

* * *

"Have you ever been in love? Horrible, isn't it?" - Neil Gaiman

*

Remus trudged up the stairs to his rooms, telling himself for the tenth time that hour that Severus was an experienced spy and that he had every reason to hope that all had gone well with his visit to Harry.

Remus opened the door to his rooms and saw the young man in question sitting in a chair, despondent.

_Oh, dear._

Harry looked up and glared at him, searching his eyes for... something.

Whatever he found must have satisfied him and he relaxed, no longer looking so defensive. He continued to sit there, his anger seeming to stew, and Remus waited for the inevitable explosion.

"Tell me you didn't know," was all Harry said.

Remus sighed and walked over to the chair opposite Harry, sitting down with a plop. He had no idea what to say to defend himself, or if he should even try. He acknowledged that if he had been in Harry's position, he'd be angry as well.

"Tell me he tricked you or... held the Wolfsbane potion over your head or something," Harry said, pleading.

Remus sighed again. "I knew. He didn't trick me or threaten me in the least."

Harry glared and clenched his fists, biting his lip as though he was holding back an angry tirade.

"Why?" he demanded.

Remus looked to the fire, the happily dancing flames seeming to mock him in their cheerfulness.

"Because there are some things that Severus Snape simply doesn't do, Harry... at least not in my experience. And he did something- two things- that I, at least, had never seen him do before."

Harry looked curious at that, but did not voice his question.

"He doesn't beg, Harry. I've never seen him ask for anything in his life. Take, yes. Demand, definitely. But beg? I'd never seen him beg before. He begged me for this, and I'm sorry, but I couldn't turn him away."

He watched as Harry's fist ceased to grip the arms of the chair in which he was sitting and color came back to his face. He seemed to deflate slowly, running a hand through his hair before rubbing his temples.

"What was the second thing?"

Remus realized how silly it would sound, but knew he had to tell Harry the truth.

"He called me by my first name."

Harry looked up at him at that with an incredulous look on his face.

"He called you 'Remus?'"

Remus nodded.

"Oh," was all Harry said.

"Yes. I had never seen Severus so desperate for anything. I'm very sorry if you were hurt, but... Well, I suppose I have no defense save to say I couldn't deny a desperate man."

Harry shook his head, but what he was denying, Remus had no idea.

"You shouldn't have done that."

Remus nodded his head in agreement. "I know."

"He begged?" Harry asked, his eyes watching his hands.

"Yes. He said that he needed to see you. He would have done anything to see you."

"He could have just asked," Harry scoffed. "I'd have been there- God, it's sad how quickly I'd have been there."

Remus nodded.

"Can we talk about something else? Anything else?"

Remus nodded and pulled some chocolate from his pocket. "I got you something from Honeydukes."

Harry smiled weakly and thanked him, biting off a piece of the candy and chewing it gracelessly. They sat in silence for a while, neither of them speaking.

"The weather's unseasonably good at the moment," Remus said, inwardly rolling his eyes at himself.

Harry nodded, but did not look up.

"Do you think Gryffindor will take the Cup this year?"

Harry snorted then laughed hysterically, frightening Remus with how quickly his mood changed. He shook his head and said nothing to Remus' question, and Remus thought it was just as well.

Finally, Harry said the only thing he could say.

"I hate this."


	28. The Bold Continue

A/N: I'm so glad to be writing this story again. I took a nearly three month break in writing it while I was busy moving and writing my Snarry Games fic. The Snarry Games fic, entitled The Weight We Carry, has a very complicated plot and it took a lot out of me to write it, but in that good way. I can honestly say it was a wonderful learning experience and I'm so pleased that I'm a part of the games.

It is good to be back though. This chapter had been begging to be written for so long and I'm so glad it's finally here. Thank you all for sticking around during the long wait.

Thanks go to thesewarmstars for a SPaG beta, WhiteCotton for looking over my plot and keeping the POV straight and Torina for giving it a last read-through. A kiss and a wave go out to all the wonderful people over at SeverusSighs.

* * *

"A storm is raging. Nevertheless they go forward in their madness. The air becomes difficult to breathe. The abyss yawns below them. Some fall. Others stop and retrace their steps; there is a sad weariness. The bold ones continue. They are eyed by the eagles; the lightning plays about them; the hurricane is furious. No matter, they persevere." -- Victor Hugo.

*

Harry was famished.

He sat at the dining room table at the Burrow and buried his head in his hands, trying to ignore how weak his entire body felt and how badly his stomach was cramping from hunger.

God, how long had it been since he'd eaten anything? Or had a glass of water?

From the dryness of his mouth and the pain in his gut, it felt like days had passed since he'd had either and he closed his eyes in an attempt to ignore yet another dizzy spell.

Suddenly, the sound of a metal door opening pierced through the ache and the most wonderful smell wafted through the room. He inhaled deeply and could almost taste the rich flavor of the meat, how juicy it would be and how tender. It was torture; the wonderful aroma a living, breathing thing, making his mouth and throat clench.

"Ron?" he said, his voice scratchy and as dry as his tongue. "What's that smell?"

He looked up just in time to see Ron leaning down to look into the oven, poke whatever was in it with a set of prongs experimentally, and then close the door again.

Standing up and pulling a teapot from the cupboard, Ron said, "I'm making a roast," in a tone so casual another person might have thought Ron made roasts on a daily basis.

The sound of water filling a teapot assaulted Harry's ears and his attention divided into two lines–raw want to taste that smell and the agonizing need for something to quench his thirst.

"A–a roast?"

"Yup."

"Why?"

Teapot now filled and fire lit, Ron turned around in time to answer Harry with a shrug.

The smell of the roast mesmerized him and Harry's stomach tightened painfully. Just a taste, a lick of his tongue along the wafts of the warm, juicy aroma... His mind focused on it, unable to think of anything else.

"Ron...please...I want to eat. Can't remember the last I ate... Please–starving."

"I know you are, Harry," Ron said solemnly. "Roast'll be done soon."

Dizziness rolled over him in increasing waves, but all he could think about was the smell of the roast, the sound of the water. His head no longer able to stay upright through the weakness, he lowered his head to his hands again.

He swallowed and his tongue stuck to the back of his mouth, its surface rough and swollen.

"Water," he pleaded, his voice weaker than before. "For the love of God, Ron...water."

"Tea's brewing Harry. And it's that blend you really like. It's really spicy and it'll go great with the roast. Just wait a few minutes longer."

If Harry had the strength he would have pounded his fist on the table, but instead expressed his indignation through a whimper.

"Ron," he said, his voice barely reaching above a whisper. "Please, please...something to eat. I'm... Drink, Ron. Anything. I'm dying here."

A chair scraped along the floor at the other side of the table and Harry saw red hair through his fingers. He looked up and saw the worried gaze of his friend looking right back at him.

"I know you are, Harry. You just have to wait a little longer. I promise."

Harry opened his eyes, then promptly closed them again.

Lying in his bed, curtains pulled firmly shut, he felt the same ache and fatigue he had felt hours before and wondered how long he had been asleep. The pain of separation from Severus followed him even into his dreams and Harry wanted nothing more than to call for him and let them both rest.

But what he wanted meant nothing.

Pulling his wand from his bedside table, he cast _Tempus_ and noted it was six in the evening.

"Damn," he muttered, closing his eyes again. He'd been in bed the entire day and had missed Potions, of all classes. The flood of emotion that fell upon him spoke of exactly how worried Severus had become. He was surprised he'd been left alone this long.

"Harry?"

He groaned and pulled his curtain back, looking up into Neville's concerned face. "Yeah?"

"Are you feeling alright? It's dinnertime."

Another groan and he let the curtain fall shut again before he rolled over and contemplated returning to sleep.

"I'm fine, Neville. Just really tired."

"Are you sure? You were asleep all day."

Harry burrowed his face into his pillow and took a deliberate breath, feeling Severus' pain as a heavy weight on his chest.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired."

A pale light shone down on his face and Harry pulled his blanket over him as Neville pulled back the curtain.

"You should eat if you're not feeling well."

"I will," Harry said into his pillow. "Promise."

There was silence and then an added weight on the bed prompted him to shift.

"Do you want me to call Professor Lupin?"

Harry had no desire for anyone to see him like this, least of all Remus. "No, I'm up," he said, lifting himself out of bed slowly and reaching for his glasses.

Neville promptly handed them to him and then let the curtain fall back.

"Harry...if you're not feeling well, you should see Pomfrey." Neville was quiet for a moment before he quietly said, "And you shouldn't play tomorrow. I don't care what anyone says. You can't play Quidditch if you're sick."

Saying nothing, Harry pulled his t-shirt and trousers on and tried to ignore the weight that seemed to be pushing him down by his shoulders.

"I'm not sick," he said, hoping Neville would just drop it.

He turned to face the door, wanting nothing more than to leave the awkward conversation, but Neville was standing in his way.

"Harry...if you want to talk about Ron, we can."

Harry had a sudden urge to laugh hysterically, but he stopped himself. Better that Neville suspect he wasn't dealing with his friend's death than the truth.

"Thanks, Neville, but I'm fine. Really. I was just tired."

Neville nodded and stepped out of his way, and Harry promptly walked to the door. His hand was already turning the knob when Neville said, "I think Hermione's waiting for you in the Common Room. She was really worried when you didn't show up for class."

_Wonderful_, Harry thought as Neville walked past him and down the stairs.

It wasn't as though he didn't want to talk to Hermione. Of course he did. She _was_ his friend, after all.

But he could no longer say she was his best friend. Remus filled that role more than anyone else these days. Their quiet companionship was the only thing that had kept him sane these past weeks of only seeing Severus during class and meals at the Great Hall.

And whose fault was that exactly? Harry hadn't felt right letting her know about his friendship with Severus in the summer, not after he had helped him to get over his grief for Ron so quickly.

And though he knew he had no cause to have felt guilt over it, he had.

Now it had been three weeks since he had even spoken to Severus. Three weeks since he had betrayed Harry in the most selfish of ways, and he didn't think he could fall any further.

He thought it had been bad in the beginning when they had first bonded and Severus had sent him away. The pain that Severus felt was beyond his comprehension and Harry thought it couldn't get any worse, and yet... The past three weeks had been hell and Harry had to fight to keep himself from completely giving up hope of ever even speaking to Severus again.

Because as much as he was still so angry with him, he did still love him.

That bastard.

Deliberately putting one foot in front of the other, he had to force himself to keep his eyes open, to move down the stairs and not simply crawl back into bed as he wanted to.

Worry washed over him from the bond and Harry knew that Severus was concerned over his absence. No matter, he thought. He knew there would be no sign from Severus, nothing to inquire how he was. Severus already knew how he suffered and a simple absence was not going to change anything. Harry was no longer certain anything would.

He nearly stumbled after the last stair, not having noticed they had ended and fumbled a bit for the banister.

"Harry? Are you alright?"

He was getting very tired of people asking him that question.

Annoyed now, he looked up into the frightened and concerned gaze of his friend, her soft, sad brown eyes calming his irritation and making him wish he had some power to take away her grief.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he lied with practiced ease.

Hermione bit her lip and seemed to steel herself, taking his hand and pulling him into the corner of the common room where no one would see them upon returning from dinner.

She was standing very close to him, Harry only at that moment realizing they were alone.

"Harry," she started and looked up at him with a soft kind of sadness he had never seen before. "Harry, you don't have to go through this alone."

He shut his eyes in what could have passed as a prolonged blink as he realized Hermione had no idea what 'this' was. Crestfallen, he cursed himself, cursed the situation he was in and most of all cursed Severus for doing this to them in the first place.

"I know you miss him," she said slowly. "I miss him too." She took a step closer to him and laced her fingers with his own, her hand soft and her fingers feeling small in his hand.

"But we don't have to cry alone anymore. We can have each other. I think... I think he would want that for us, Harry. He'd want to know that we could be happy together..." she trailed off as she stood on her toes and leaned her face towards Harry.

Time seemed to slow down as he saw her lips approach his, felt her breasts press against his chest, the smell of something soft and beautiful invading his senses.

He minutely turned his head so that her lips kissed the air, then released her hand.

"I'm sorry," he said sincerely.

She placed her feet firmly on the ground, her lessened height making it seem as though she shrank before his refusal, and for a moment Harry wished things were different, if only so he didn't have to see that look upon her lovely face.

"Oh," she said softly. "Oh," she said again, this time more forcefully, as though she was understanding something for the first time. "Oh, how silly of me to think... Yes, you're right of course."

"Hermione..."

"No, I'm... I'm sorry, Harry. How stupid of me to... How very stupid."

"Hermione, it's not that I don't love you–I do."

"Oh, please don't say that," she said, looking as though she was about to cry. "Really, I'm the stupid one here, no need to..." she trailed off and lowered her eyes to the floor.

Harry stood there in silence, not wanting to abandon her, yet wanting to bolt for the door at the same time.

"You're not sad because of Ron, are you?" It was more a statement than a question.

He hated to tell her the truth, wishing for a moment that he was still with her in her grief, if only so she wouldn't be alone. "I miss him, but no. I'm not sad because of Ron."

Hermione nodded and looked away, but not before Harry saw a single tear fall from her eye. He wanted nothing more than to comfort her, his guilt for their current situation raging inside him.

_Confusion_

_Bewilderment_

_Worry_

Harry felt Severus' concern for him through the bond, but he pushed it to the back of his mind in a practiced move. Severus could worry all he wanted; Harry knew it would do nothing to make him realize his selfishness.

"Then why are you so sad?" Hermione's voice pulled him from his thoughts.

Harry remained silent, having no idea what to say. For the longest time he had thought of Hermione as one of his best friends, but how could she possibly understand what he was going through? He knew that she understood loss, but he refused to burden her with any of his own pain. And how could he even begin to explain what was going on with Severus?

"Is there someone else?"

Harry exhaled loudly as he considered how to answer that question. Yes, there was someone else. There would always be someone else because there was no one else for him except Severus. Severus who at this moment seemed to be pacing in the back of Harry's consciousness.

"Yes," he said plainly.

She turned to look at him and he didn't think the expression on her face could fall any further.

"Oh."

There was quiet between them and Harry felt his heart speed up at the opportunity to tell her about what had happened, tell her about the bond.

He shook his head, telling himself there was no way he would add to her burdens.

"Is she some stupid girl who doesn't know what she has in front of her?" Hermione said with a false smile. "What's her name?"

_Oh_, Harry thought and wondered if he could at least tell her this. Somehow, he thought she deserved to know, and he wanted her to know some part of him, no matter how small.

"His."

"What?" Hermione said, frowning.

"His name. 'What's his name?'"

Quiet fell upon the Common Room as Hermione's eyes widened slightly and he could tell that she was trying very hard to stay still. He met her eyes though, and tried to make her understand, tried to will her to accept it.

"Oh," she breathed, and this time he could see her hand tremble as she wiped away another errant tear.

"Yeah," he said lamely.

"Are you..." she said, then stopped herself and Harry could almost hear her telling herself that it was none of her business.

"It's okay," he said softly. "You can ask."

"Are you gay?" she asked in a whisper.

He would have thought it impossible for his emotions to grow more tumultuous, and yet her question caused him to recall all of the terrible things Severus had asked him the night he kicked him out of his rooms over a month ago.

_"And when exactly did you realize this, Potter? Around the time my cock entered your arse, or after I made you come?"_

_Worry_

_Fear_

Harry closed his eyes and tried to calm himself, lest Severus bust into the Common Room, wand out and ready for battle. As much as he needed to see Severus, Harry still had no desire to manipulate him.

Finally calm enough, he gave the only answer he could give her.

"I don't know."

She seemed to grow even more confused at that.

"Are you...experimenting or..."

"No, I'm not. I..." he exhaled a strong puff of air and put a hand behind his head. "It's complicated, and terrible and..."

"Oh. It's okay, Harry," she said though from her tone he could tell it was not. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"I know," he said with a soft smile, hardly encouraged when she couldn't summon the strength to smile back. "I'm sorry," he said.

"Is it serious? Do you love him?" she said softly, as though she were afraid her words would carry.

"Yes," he said plainly, with conviction, not wanting to lie to her.

Hermione nodded and looked away, suddenly seeming so small to him.

"Well...it's always good to love somebody."

Harry nodded and looked at his shoes, not knowing what to say now.

"Does he love you?"

A lump formed in Harry's throat and he closed his eyes for a moment, his anguish and despair welling up inside him.

"Yes," he said, not having the strength to explain anything else.

There was quiet as she seemed to weight his words and her own response. Finally she asked, "Then why are you so sad?"

Harry took a deep breath and exhaled it in a soft moan that seemed to startle Hermione. "It's complicated."

She smiled sweetly and said, "Don't worry. If he loves you and you love him...it'll work out."

Harry summoned the last of his strength and returned her smile, though everything inside him was crying out.

"I want us to be close again, Harry. I've missed you."

Partly from the desire to comfort her and partly from the need for some human contact, Harry took her in his arms and buried his face in her hair. She seemed surprised at first, but was quick to wrap her arms around him, realizing at once that the embrace wasn't only for her benefit.

His eyes closed, Harry allowed himself to take some comfort from her and at once felt awful for using her so terribly.

"It'll be okay, Harry," she said in his ear.

He nodded automatically.

"Really. It'll be alright." A pause, and then, "You could tell me about it, if you'd like to."

He shook his head and said, "No," pulling back and stepping away from her. "At some point, yeah, but not right now."

She nodded and took a step back from him awkwardly, and Harry thought at once that she had never seemed more broken.

"We should go to dinner. You're probably famished."

The idea of sitting down and attempting to eat in front of all his classmates, who knew something was wrong with him, made his head pound. Even with Hermione there, he knew he wouldn't be able to handle the bustle of the Great Hall.

He shook his head in response to her statement. "I think I'll eat with Remus."

"But..."

"I'll see you later, Hermione," he said, nearly bolting out the door.

*

"It was the most awkward conversation of my life, Remus," Harry said miserably as he poked at his chicken. "And I'm including the time Severus kicked me out of his rooms."

Remus winced a bit at that but said nothing, instead choosing that moment to push some more peas onto Harry's plate.

"I don't like peas," he protested, hating how even that innocuous phrase sounded depressing to his ears.

"You don't like much of anything. Pick one thing you do like and eat it, please."

Harry rolled his eyes and pushed his plate away. "I don't need feeding up and I don't come here to be pestered."

"Oh?" Remus said, his tone irritated and his words clipped. "Why exactly do you come here?" Leaning back in his chair and giving him what could pass for a glare, Harry thought perhaps Remus' seemingly eternal patience had at last been pushed to its limit.

Harry sighed. "Might have something to do with you being my best friend and all," he said into his peas.

There was silence and Harry looked up through his fringe, finding Remus smiling shyly, almost as though he wanted to conceal it but, being so unused to concealing any emotion, found it impossible.

"Be that as it may, as your friend, it falls to me to make sure you continue existing. You need food for that."

Harry buried some of his peas under his mashed potatoes, but Remus saw anyway. "I like chicken, but I'm not that hungry."

"Eat half."

The sound of a fork hitting a plate sounded in the room and Harry buried his face in his hands and groaned. "I'm not hungry, damn it!" He hadn't had an appetite for weeks and Remus knew that! He hadn't been able to eat properly since Severus' bout of selfishness with the Polyjuice. Everything had seemed to lose its flavor since then.

Suddenly, another pair of hands were on him, pulling his own away and he was looking into Remus' scarred face.

"Do you want to worry Severus even more than he's already worried? Do you see the way he looks at you in the Great Hall? Do you want him to come up here like this? Out of concern for you? Because if you've changed your mind about manipulating him–"

Harry pushed his hands away from him and responded, "No! How could you even think that?"

"Because you're deliberately hurting yourself, which means you're deliberately hurting Severus. I can't say that I would approve of you doing so, but I could possibly understand after all this time–"

"No! God, no!" Harry cried, running a hand through his hair and trying to calm himself down. "I don't want him that way. Besides, I'm so angry with him...all the time...and he's so...he's just miserable." Harry stopped himself from continuing, no longer able to discuss what was always in the forefront of his mind.

"I know, Harry," Remus said, again pushing Harry's plate in front of him.

Exhausted, Harry looked down at his chicken as though it held the answer to his problems.

_Guilt_

_Worry_

Harry closed his eyes as Severus' ever-present emotions swirled within him and whispered, "Is it so difficult to believe that I'm just not hungry?"

"For a seventeen-year-old young man who plays Quidditch? Yes, it is. Eat half and I'll be satisfied. Besides, you face Slytherin tomorrow."

Harry scoffed at the reminder, as though house rivalries had allowed him to forget at any time this week. "For once, I couldn't give a damn about Quidditch."

"I know, Harry. But it's a part of your life and you have to keep it up. Otherwise, what would you do? Stay holed up here with me?"

Harry grinned sadly and looked up at Remus. "Probably."

Remus smiled warmly in reply and said, "Eat."

He barely managed to refrain from rolling his eyes and took a bite of his chicken. It seemed tasteless to him and he swore some of it stuck to his throat as he swallowed it, forcing him to take a sip of water as he leaned back in his chair.

"About Hermione..." Remus said casually, though Harry knew the coming conversation would be anything but.

"What about her?"

"Do you think you can repair your friendship?"

Harry sighed and ate a bite of potato as he considered the question.

"We're so distant now and not only because of Ron. The past few years... What with Cedric and then Sirius..." Harry took another sip of water, his throat feeling scratchy and parched.

"It's been a long time coming, is what I'm trying to say. This is nothing new. We've been growing apart the entire time."

Remus nodded, but said nothing. After a few moments of silence, Harry said, "You did warn me about her. After Ron died. But I don't know how I could have done anything different."

"No. Neither do I. I think you handled it as best you could, considering the circumstances. You never led her on?"

Harry glared at that, not even bothering to dignify it with a response. Remus seemed to understand the ridiculousness of his question and did not ask again, just nodded and glanced down at Harry's plate.

Unable even to fathom taking another bite, he pushed it away and sank further into his chair.

"I wanted to tell her about Severus."

"Why didn't you?" Remus asked, his voice soft and kind. He looked at Harry tenderly and waited for him to speak.

A hysterical laugh bubbled out of him and he said, "What would I say? I mean, how would even I start? 'Hey, Hermione. I know you think you're in love with me, but I'm actually in love with our potions professor who loves me back but thinks he's a monster and won't let himself near me.' Something like that?"

"It's a start."

A genuine laugh erupted from Harry, hearty and deep, taking him completely by surprise. It felt so good to laugh again, even if it was due to some ridiculous joke he had completely walked into.

"Ah," he sighed happily. "Thank you for that."

"My pleasure." He sat back in his chair, mirroring Harry's relaxed posture and rubbed his eyes with his hand. "Wish Severus had another bottle of that Scotch. It would do some good about now."

Harry smiled weakly, but the brief relief the laughter brought had passed.

Clearing his throat, Remus looked at Harry soberly. "But about Hermione..." he said, trailing off as the smile left his face. "You should try to repair your friendship with her if it's at all possible. You're going to need your friends around you very soon, I think."

Somehow Harry knew Remus wasn't referring to Severus._ Voldemort_, Harry thought, as a chill ran down his back. "Has there been any new activity?"

Remus nodded his head, the gray and brown hair swishing about comically. "More raids, all purposeless save for the destruction and disorder they cause. Whatever Voldemort is planning, if he even has a plan at this point, it doesn't seem to make any sense. I can understand why he attacked the Hogwarts Express, even if we don't know exactly why he wanted you–"

"Yeah, nothing new there," Harry interrupted snidely.

Ignoring the crassness of his tone, Remus carried on. "–abducting the enemy makes sense. These raids do not. It's almost as though he's trying to distract us, but neither Dumbledore nor Severus has any idea what the real purpose could be."

Harry leaned further into his seat, interested in the conversation but fatigued despite having slept all day.

"I would prefer it if he did have some master plan. That would make all of this slightly less frightening," Remus muttered, almost to himself.

Harry's head fell for a moment as he nearly dozed off, so tired now, but he rallied to ask, "How so?"

"Would you rather have an enemy who makes measured, planned attacks, or one who was completely insane, attacking the world at random? If Voldemort wants you, we can protect you. We can't protect the entire world."

"Oh," Harry said, nodding. He did care what Remus was saying and he did want to hear about Order business. How often had he complained in the past about not being allowed to know what was happening in his own life?

But he was so tired, Severus' pain a constant weight upon his shoulders. If he could only rest his eyes for a moment...

"Harry," Remus said, shaking his shoulder. "It's past ten, Harry."

Harry exhaled deeply as he muttered, "Remus?"

"Yeah. Time to get back to your dorm. Can't sleep here."

Harry protested as Remus pulled him a bit by his arms. "Why not? Chair's nice."

"If you stay here one night, you'll never leave. And you need to be among your friends."

"But you're my friend," Harry protested, not understanding why he was being sent away.

Remus chuckled and opened the door to his rooms. "Goodnight, Harry. Stairs are that way, in case you've forgotten."

"Sod off," Harry muttered, which only made Remus chuckle more.

"Careful on those stairs."

"Yeah," Harry said with a yawn, glad that the staircase down didn't seem prone to move anytime soon. The door hadn't shut yet and he knew Remus was going to watch him walk all the way down, which was ridiculous. He was tired, but he wasn't _that_ tired.

Yawning and stretching a kink out of his shoulder, Harry managed to put a foot on the first step when suddenly his body stiffened, feeling as though he had been dropped into freezing water.

_Panic_

_Fear_

_Dread_

Instantly Harry was wide awake, the flood of emotion from Severus causing a sudden rush of adrenaline, his body responding to the terror in it before Harry even had a chance to understand it.

He stood there, his breathing shallow and his shoulders stiff, his entire body tightening as he came to understand exactly what was happening.

He couldn't say exactly how he knew. There was no pain in his scar, nor was there any phantom tinge on his left arm. There was no physical sensation that could explain what he suddenly realized, and yet Harry knew with absolute certainty that Severus was being called.

His heated flesh broke out in a layer of sweat as his mind rushed to catch up with what his body and heart knew.

_Severus is being called._

After months of nothing, after allowing him to be tortured and treated as a thing by Lucius Malfoy, Voldemort was calling Severus back to his side.

_Oh God, what is he going to do?_

"Harry?" Remus said, his voice barely cutting into the panic Harry felt. "What's wrong? What's happened?"

His hands clenching into fists, his fingernails embedding themselves into his skin, he tried to slow his mind down, tried to calm himself so he could think. _ Severus is being called. Oh, God what the fuck is he going to do?_

And yet Harry already knew what Severus would do. He would go, returning to the place where he had nearly died, all in the name of defending Harry.

And where did that leave Harry? How was he to stop–

His mind running in circles, Harry suddenly remembered the last time Severus had been called and what he was more than likely to do now. Calculating how long it would take Severus to reach Dumbledore's office from the dungeons, Harry prayed that Severus still had the good sense to tell Dumbledore he was reporting to Voldemort before he left the safety of the castle grounds.

A hand on his shoulder cut through the wildness of his thoughts and Harry broke away instinctively, his body just as panicked as his mind, taking off in a sprint to Dumbledore's office.

"Harry?" he could hear Remus cry as the sound of boots stomped after him. "_Harry_!"

But Remus seemed to understand something had happened because he made no move to slow him down or stop him, only followed in his haste to get to Severus.

_Please God, please, please, please_, he repeated, Severus' fear and resignation pushing him forward, the bond screaming for him to get there in time.

*

With torn muscles aching in protest, Remus followed despite the fact that he no idea what had happened to prompt Harry's panicked run from Gryffindor Tower. But having witnessed no external stimulus, he quickly made the conclusion that Harry must have felt something through the bond and that something terrible was happening to Severus.

He felt his own heart fall to his feet as he took in Harry's terrified expression, frantic and furious where only seconds ago it had been placid and relaxed.

When they reached the bottom of Gryffindor Tower and sped past the turn towards the stairs leading to the dungeons, it became all too clear to him exactly what had transpired. A chill ran down his back even through the heat of his sudden exertion and Remus struggled to quicken his pace. Rounding the corner on the seventh floor corridor, he barely arrived in time to hear Harry shout the password to Dumbledore's office then follow him up in a sprint when the gargoyle jumped aside.

The sound of their desperate panting was soon drowned by voices shouting in anger and, though there were only two men in the room, they opened the door into chaos.

"–no say in the matter, Albus!"

"You have been acting the fool for a month now, Severus, and I will not allow– Harry!" Dumbledore exclaimed as he turned towards the door, his relief at seeing Harry obvious by his tone of voice. "Thank Merlin. Perhaps you can help Severus see reason."

"I need to see nothing. I have been called and I fail to see why it is anyone's business but my own," Severus shouted, his face pale and his eyes revealing far more fear than his voice would allow. "Go back to your dormitory, Potter, and get some sleep."

Remus had been a wallflower in his youth, easily passed over–especially with the loud and audacious friends with whom he had surrounded himself–but it had been a long time since he had been ignored so completely. No one seemed to register he was even in the room and, understanding that his own words wouldn't carry the weight Harry's did, he quickly fell back into the shadows. He couldn't help but notice how Harry was nearly vibrating in terror and panic, his eyes boring into Severus', while Severus seemed to be deliberately avoiding looking at him. Remus scoffed when he saw how Severus' eyes fixed on some point beyond Dumbledore's desk and thought he could nearly feel his desire to look at Harry.

Knowing this was not going to end well, he fought the desire to pull Harry away, tell him he could sleep in his armchair if he'd like, anything so this conversation did not have to take place. Seeing the look on Harry's face, his mouth half-open as he struggled to find the words, Remus knew there would be no stopping it.

"Don't go," Harry desperately pleaded, his voice hard and coming out in pants after his panicked run from Gryffindor Tower. "Please. He'll kill you."

Hating how Severus still refused to look at Harry, he watched as his face grew impossibly paler, the lines around his mouth growing deeper as he summoned what Remus knew was a false scowl.

"If he wanted to kill me, he would have done so by now, Potter," he said, and Remus had to almost physically restrain himself from lunging forward to argue with him.

Harry moved to stand in front of Severus, no longer willing to accept being ignored, causing Severus' dark hair to move in a sudden swish as turned his head to avoid looking directly at him.

Exasperated, Harry shouted, "He tried to, damn it! He _did_ try to kill you! Don't you remember what happened last time? Do you remember what he let Malfoy do?"

Severus sneered and clenched his fists, but did not look at Harry. "He will not do it again. There were special circumstances–"

"And now?" Harry ground out through clenched teeth. "How do you know there are no 'special circumstances' now? How do you know he won't just kill you as soon as you walk in or give you over as plaything to whichever Malfoy–"

Taking a step forward, Severus loomed over Harry, his black eyes blazing in a way Remus hadn't seen in years. "It will not happen again, Potter! The Dark Lord has no call to be angry with me. According to Draco, I have been pursuing his plans all summer and he undoubtedly wants my report on the time I've spent with you. I have been expecting this for weeks now."

Though Remus acknowledged that Severus' words made sense, he had no doubt they were lies. Severus had barely spared a thought for anything but protecting Harry for weeks now. If he had considered what would happen if he was called, it had been in passing as he tried to ignore the pain of his separation from Harry. Remus had seen it himself, every time he passed Severus in the halls, every meal they took together in the Great Hall.

"Severus, nothing can be gained by your reporting," Dumbledore said, suddenly breaking into the conversation. "It was obvious in June, and it is beyond obvious now, that Voldemort no longer trusts you."

Remus opened his mouth to agree wholeheartedly with Dumbledore, but before he could voice his opinion Severus shouted, "You know no such thing!"

Dumbledore must have taken notice of Remus' attempt to speak because he put up a hand to stall him. His posture straight and his voice booming, he said in a firm tone, "We _still_ don't know why Voldemort attacked the Hogwarts Express, Severus, nor do we have any idea what his plans are regarding these pointless raids. Your place is no longer in his ranks. It hasn't been for some time."

Remus felt a rush of sadness at the hopeful look that flooded Harry's face at Dumbledore's words, no doubt trusting that the leader of the Order's opinion could sway Severus. But as his expression grew increasingly stormy, Harry's face fell again.

"This discussion is pointless and will only cause me to be late," Severus snapped as he turned to leave the office.

Harry reacted instantly, running to keep up with him and standing in his way. "Don't go. Please. Please, Severus," he said quietly, and Remus' chest squeezed painfully at the misery twisting the quiet tone.

And just like that, with Harry's voice softer than he had ever heard it, laced with a desperation Remus himself had never felt, Severus stopped and looked down on Harry. It was a look borne of a love Remus had never felt and, though he did not envy their situation, for a moment he wished he had loved someone half as much as Severus loved Harry.

His entire face transformed, Severus looked at him and said, "Harry, I have to go."

Harry shook his head, his eyes wild and desperate. "No, you don't. You're not supposed to be there anymore. You're supposed to be with me."

Remus watched as Severus closed his eyes and seemed to steel himself against Harry's plea as though he needed to gather all his strength to deny him. Remus couldn't blame him; in that moment he couldn't imagine Severus denying Harry anything. Not with that look in his eyes, his entire body screaming his fear.

"It is for you that I go. I have to protect you. I am _meant_ to protect you," Severus pleaded, begging Harry to understand.

Harry shook his head at Severus, exasperated. "You idiot! I'm supposed to protect you, too! How am I supposed to do that if you go?"

"Stupid boy," Severus muttered, though Remus noted how even his insults to Harry were laced with affection, "I do not need protection–"

"Yes, you do! If you didn't, then the bond wouldn't work both ways. Do you have any idea what I've gone through, feeling you need me for weeks and not being able to do a thing about it? Do you have any clue?"

_Yes_, Remus thought sadly. Though he knew the answer, he couldn't blame Harry for asking such a rhetorical question. How could Severus even function knowing what he was doing to Harry?

"Yes," Severus hissed through clenched teeth, his face twisting in guilt and anguish. "You know I–" Severus looked over towards him and the headmaster and suddenly seemed to realize they were being watched. Remus heard him utter a quick silencing charm and then their conversation fell silent.

It was very odd to Remus to watch a conversation being played out; not being able to hear a word of it, yet knowing exactly what was being said regardless.

He watched as Harry's face grew redder and, though he didn't know what he was saying, saw his mouth form the same words repeatedly. Remus thought he recognized 'please' and 'don't go,' hating that Harry had to beg to any man, and he watched as Severus rubbed his temples, his patience seemingly fading.

After a few minutes of this, Harry clenched his fists and Remus saw them go white, his entire body radiating his anger and frustration. His face turned an alarming shade of red as he opened his mouth wide and shouted something and, though he could not hear it, he had no need to. Harry's desperation was visible for all to see on every inch of his face, in the wringing of his hands, and the frantic movements of his body that pleaded for something, anything to stop this.

Pale hands ripped at black hair and Harry tore off his glasses before turning to face away from Severus and then back again. His hands, which Remus had never noticed were so animated, clenched and his body shook with the force of his inaudible screaming.

The slow build-up becoming too much for him, Remus found he couldn't watch the awful scene unfold any longer and took a step towards them, fully intent on taking Harry back to his rooms and doing whatever was necessary to stop Severus from leaving Hogwarts.

Dumbledore, whose eyes were still trained on Harry and Severus, reached out and grabbed his arm, silently commanding him not to get involved. Turning towards him, he looked down at his arm, where the older, wrinkled hand gripped him strongly, keeping him in place. He knew Harry and Severus' affairs were none of his business, that he had no right to get involved...

But how could he remain silent when something terrible was happening right in front of him? How could he watch as one of his friends destroyed the other?

Taking a step back to where he had stood before, Remus resigned himself to doing nothing even as every instinct in him screamed to stop this.

His eyes once again on Harry and Severus, he took in the drastic change in their demeanors. The more Harry yelled and shouted his plea, the more Severus calmed, his quiet concession to what he felt he had to do all too obvious. As he had known from the beginning of this encounter, Harry's storming would do neither of them any good.

Nothing would stop either of them at this point.

Finally, Remus saw a light leave Harry's eyes as he suddenly stopped his violent shouting, looking at Severus with sadness, and slowly mouthed the word 'please.'

The softness of his expression compared to the harshness in the moment before caused Severus to look up from the floor, and for a moment Remus hoped Severus might acquiesce.

'Please,' Harry repeated and wrung his hands together. Remus thought he saw Harry utter the word 'beg' and suddenly felt a desperation he had never felt for another person. If he could have, he would have removed Harry from Severus' line of sight and begged for him, just so he wouldn't have to watch this.

His mind distracted by his own sadness, his eyes caught a sudden movement and they widened of their own volition.

His body stiff and his hands clenched, he watched as Harry slowly dropped to his knees and put up his hands to beg Severus Snape not to go. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dumbledore look away, no longer able to watch. Remus knew he could be a sentimental fool at times, but his heart had never ached for someone as it did for Harry as he watched his proud young friend fall to his knees and beg.

'Please don't go,' he watched Harry mouth even as Severus looked down in resigned sadness. Remus wanted to curse him, wanted to pull out his wand and hex him to prevent his escape, anything just to get Harry off his knees.

"Damn you, Severus." he muttered, though he knew no one but Dumbledore could hear him.

Severus closed his eyes and made a motion with his wand, and suddenly Remus could hear the end of Harry's plea.

Being aware that he could be heard did nothing to stop Harry from begging, and though he had never been prideful, Remus was surprised to realize that when it came to protecting Severus, Harry had none.

"You selfish bastard," Harry shouted to Severus' back as he turned to go. Standing quickly, Harry made to follow him out of the room, but Severus stopped at the door.

With his head bowed away from the room's occupants, Severus stood in the doorframe and asked, "Do you think this is easy for me, Harry? Do you think I want any of this?"

"Then stay," Harry whispered. "Stay with me, please."

Almost as though he couldn't help himself, Severus turned to look at Harry and then promptly closed his eyes. "It is my duty to protect you. Always."

The door made a creaking noise as Severus took a step back to open it when Harry suddenly grabbed him by the front of his robe, looked him deeply in the eyes and pulled him down for a kiss.

For a moment Remus was unable to look away, watching as Severus' eyes opened wide in bewilderment, then seemed to close of their own accord. He had the good sense to turn his head as he watched Harry's arms come up to encircle Severus' shoulders and then he heard what could only be described as a panicked whimper and then a desperate moan, though he couldn't tell who had made which sound.

He heard the dull thud of a body hitting a wall and the sound of moisture upon moisture, the unmistakeable exhalation of a passionate kiss cutting through the sudden silence of the room, and Remus was unable to ignore it.

It only lasted for a few seconds before it ended, the sound of lips leaving lips a harsh reminder of what had to be.

"I'll make my report as soon as I return," Severus said to Albus, who Remus saw nodding in the corner of his eye.

Unable to look anywhere else, Remus watched Severus steal one last look at Harry, their eyes meeting for another moment before Severus walked out the door, closing it behind him.

Harry's eyes closed with it and he sank upon the floor, his earlier fatigue seeming to come upon him quickly, as though Severus had taken all his strength with him.

Remus wanted nothing more than to rush to his friend's side, to comfort him and help him in any way he could. He would take Harry back to his rooms and let him stay there, never force him to leave again, if that's what he wanted.

But when Harry opened his eyes, revealing an awful, dead look, Remus knew that Severus' leaving had destroyed something in Harry–something that couldn't be put back together with good Scotch or a friendly chat, but only by Severus' return.

And even if he did return...

Pushing those darker thoughts aside, Remus broke away from where he had been a spectator and walked towards Harry, pulling him up easily and putting an arm around him.

"Come on, Harry. Let's go home. I'll let you take the chair if you'd like."

Harry nodded, but Remus knew neither of them would be getting any sleep tonight.


	29. Interlude IV

A/N: Thanks to everyone who has continued to read this story, through angst and long absences. It means a great deal to me that you've stayed with me this long. I promise not to disappoint. Here's an interlude to the last chapter, which was planned from the beginning.

This scene **cannot** be read by itself. It shows an alternate point of view from the last chapter.

That being said, many thanks go to WhiteCotton and thesewarmstars for beta reading. Your enthusiasm (and thesewarmstars' whimpers) inspires me. Thank you.

* * *

_"Desperation is the raw material of drastic change. Only those who can leave behind everything they have ever believed in can hope to escape." _ -- William S. Burroughs

*

Like cotton wool stretched too thin, Severus stood between Harry and Dumbledore. He needed to leave, to respond to the Dark Lord's call, feeling an almost physical pull. Yet standing in Harry's presence after what felt like ages... Severus had never wanted to remain in another's company so badly, had never needed anything as he needed to be with Harry.

Exasperated, he had no idea why he continued to endure this shouting match, why he continued to stand there as though there were any possible way either of them could change his mind. There was no reason for it, no explanation. If he cut Dumbledore's rant short by storming out the door, he knew no one would dare stop him.

But he remained, hardly able to look at Harry, but feeling some small mercy for simply being in his presence. He only wished he were able to see him in better circumstances, preferably when he was not being distracted by Dumbledore's inane ramblings.

"We _still_ don't know why Voldemort attacked the Hogwarts Express, Severus, nor do we have any idea what his plans are regarding these pointless raids. Your place is no longer in his ranks. It hasn't been for some time."

_Hope_

_Desperation_

Severus felt Harry's silent prayer through the bond that perhaps he might be swayed by Dumbledore's words, but he remained resolute and would not allow himself to be distracted. He allowed an even stormier expression to grace his features and made his resolution—he would leave, now; leave before Harry could force him to stay, as only he could do.

And Severus had to go.

"This discussion is pointless and will only cause me to be late," Severus snapped as he turned to leave the office.

In the corner of his eye, he saw Harry's body snap, running to keep up with him and standing in his way. "Don't go. Please. Please, Severus," he said quietly, and Severus stilled as he took in his despondency.

How could he ignore this? How was it possible, especially after weeks of only hearing Harry's voice among the mass of students, always a lower murmur, even in his classes.

What protection did he have against such a plea?

He felt all his defenses drop, every shield he had in place shattered as he clenched his fist and turned to take in Harry's face—his beloved face that Severus hadn't allowed himself to look upon in three long weeks.

His entire face transformed, Severus looked at him and pleaded with him to understand. "Harry, I have to go."

Harry shook his head, his eyes wild and desperate. "No, you don't. You're not supposed to be there anymore. You're supposed to be with me."

Severus closed his eyes, but his efforts were futile. Harry's face was engrained into his mind, his emotions burning through him, the bond between them screaming for him to take Harry and do anything necessary to comfort him.

But he couldn't do that. He had to go; he had to meet the Dark Lord...

"It is for you that I go. I have to protect you. I am _meant_ to protect you," Severus pleaded, begging Harry to understand.

Harry shook his head at Severus, exasperated. "You idiot! I'm supposed to protect you, too! How am I supposed to do that if you go?"

"Stupid boy," Severus muttered, though even he could hear the affection that bled through the insult, "I do not need protection—"

"Yes, you do! If you didn't, then the bond wouldn't work both ways. Do you have any idea what I've gone through, feeling you need me for weeks and not being able to do a thing about it? Do you have any clue?"

Severus clenched his teeth and quelled the desire to shout at Harry. _ Of course I know what I've put you through_, he thought. _ Every hour of every day..._

"Yes," Severus hissed through clenched teeth, his face twisting in guilt and anguish. "You know I—" Severus turned his head as a small movement caught his attention, and realized they were being watched. And when had Lupin arrived?

Appalled that he had allowed himself to become so overcome with emotion that he hadn't noticed such a gross violation of their privacy, he quickly put up a Silencing Charm and turned to face Harry again.

"How can you do this to me, after what you've already done—" Harry cut himself off and looked down, his face growing red with the effort it took to restrain himself. "Don't go. Don't do this to me–to us. For fuck's sake— It would _kill_ me if you died, you know it would."

"Harry—"

"Please," he pleaded. "Please, don't go. What do you want me to do? I'll do anything you want, I swear! Just don't go!"

Severus lowered his head and rubbed his temples, desperate not to allow Harry to see his face, see how close he was to giving in.

"Do you want me to leave you alone? Never speak to you again? I'll do that, I'll do whatever—"

"I have to go, Harry," he said, his eyes on the ground. "Do you think I want this? Do you think I enjoy risking my life—"

"Yes!" Harry interrupted. "Yes, I do—you do! When will it be enough, Severus? When you're dead? Will you forgive yourself then? Is that what has to happen?"

Severus seethed, gritting his teeth and forcing himself not to respond. He had to remain strong, he had to leave, had to find out anything he could to protect Harry.

"I must go—"

"Please!" Harry screamed, his face red and his fists white. "You don't have to do this! What do you want me to do? What do I have to say, do for you to accept that you're forgiven?"

Pale hands ripped at black hair and Harry tore off his glasses before turning to face away from Severus and then back again. For a moment he just stood there, shaking in his rage, his entire body wound tightly and Severus had never wanted to acquiesce to his demands as much as he did in that moment.

He forced himself to be calm, to remain steadfast to his path, the one he had started not long after Harry was born. He couldn't stop, not even for Harry.

"Severus! _Look at me_!" Harry screamed, and Severus couldn't help but obey.

Suddenly, Harry seemed to calm outwardly though Severus could feel his emotions raging, building into something so terrible it frightened him.

Looking into green eyes, eyes he had been avoiding for more than a month, he felt his breath leave his body in a rush. In that moment, he knew he was powerless before Harry. Some moment passed between them, some knowledge of the inevitable passing through Harry, and he watched as something inside him seemed to fade; Severus had never hated himself more.

He couldn't look any longer. He lowered his eyes to the floor, hating the power Harry had over him, knowing that if he continued looking at him in that way, he would become undone.

"Please."

That voice pleading so softly, so desperately forced Severus to look up and he had to stop himself from moving to take Harry in his arms.

"Please," Harry repeated and wrung his hands together. "Do you want me to beg?" he whispered. "Is that what you want? Is that what it'll take? Do you really want me to beg?"

His body stiff and his hands clenched, he watched as Harry slowly dropped to his knees and put up his hands to beg Severus not to go. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a movement but he could not spare a thought to what it was. Not when Harry was on his knees. Harry, who was so proud, begging him to stay, begging Severus to remain with him.

"Please don't go," Harry cried in resigned sadness. Severus lowered his eyes to the floor, wanting to tell Harry to get up, wanting to lift him up himself, anything to get him off his knees.

But if did that, if he allowed himself to touch Harry, he knew he would be lost.

No longer able to stay in this room another moment, Severus closed his eyes and made a motion with his wand, conscious that the other men in the room had heard Harry's plea and hating that he had lowered himself to beg in front of anyone.

Being aware that he could be heard did nothing to stop Harry from begging, and though he had never been prideful, Severus was surprised when Harry did not stop himself. He had no idea how Harry could debase himself for anyone, especially him.

"You selfish bastard," Harry shouted to Severus' back as he turned to go. Standing quickly, Harry made to follow him out of the room, but Severus stopped at the door.

With his head bowed away from the room's occupants, Severus stood in the doorframe and asked, "Do you think this is easy for me, Harry? Do you think I want any of this?"

"Then stay," Harry whispered. "Stay with me, please."

Not able to help himself, Severus turned to look at Harry and then promptly closed his eyes. "It is my duty to protect you. Always."

The door made a creaking noise as Severus took a step back to open it when suddenly he was besieged. Rough hands grabbed the front of his robes, and green eyes pierced him before he was pulled down to meet Harry's lips in a passionate kiss.

His determination to keep Harry at bay dissolved in an instant and Severus was shocked to find himself assaulted by him, by his smell, by the feel of his hands and the softness of his lips, the scruff of his cheek. His eyes remained open in shock for a moment before he allowed them to close, no longer able to fight, no longer willing. He felt Harry's arms come up to encircle his shoulders and heard a panicked whimper, feeling Harry's desperation, his relief, his desire through the bond. He gave a desperate moan as he felt a tongue moisten his lips and then threw Harry against the wall, kissing him with abandon, for a moment not caring that he did not deserve this, that he should not do this, and just allowed himself to love Harry.

He felt a hardness press against his thigh before he ended the kiss, the sound of lips leaving lips a harsh reminder of what had to be.

He looked down at Harry, but his eyes were still closed, his lips still slightly parted. Quickly, he turned to Dumbledore while it was possible to make his escape.

"I'll make my report as soon as I return," Severus said to Albus, who nodded in response.

Severus turned to leave, but not before he took one last look at Harry. As though their eyes were drawn to each other's, they shared one last, stolen glance. Severus wanted to promise Harry that he would return, that he would not die, that he would stay alive if only to protect him...

But his throat dried upon seeing Harry's desperate stare, one last plea for him to remain.

He turned as quickly as he could and crossed the threshold, closing the door behind him.


	30. Dogfight

Disclaimer: I'll take a moment to remind everyone that while this story is normally tame, it is rated M. Also, these characters are not mine.

A/N: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed and given such lovely comments and criticisms for the story. I realize (really) how difficult it can be when a WIP gets angsty and I'm very glad everyone's stuck around. I promise to make the journey worth it, very soon.

Thanks go to WhiteCotton and thesewarmstars for an excellent beta, and to Torina for looking over the plot. Air kisses to all the lovely ladies and Stephen of SeverusSighs (now also on IJ).

* * *

"Every great mistake has a halfway moment, a split second when it can be recalled and perhaps remedied." -- Pearl S. Buck

*

Exhausted, Severus Apparated just outside Hogsmeade. As the night's terror officially came to an end, his body gave one last shudder and he forced himself to take a deep breath. Looking up into the distance, he saw sanctuary backdropped by the rising sun, and though he wanted nothing more than to collapse in relief at the sight of it, he knew he wasn't on safe ground yet.

Pulling his cloak tighter around his shoulders, he thrust his hands inside its warm folds before slowly making his way back to the castle. As he took care to notice his surroundings, he allowed himself briefly to marvel at the dawn and the way it cast Hogwarts into shadow against the brightening sky.

The night he'd endured had been filled with the unexpected, making Hogwarts a welcome respite and reminding him of the few times it had appeared in his dreams.

When he had left it, his mind had been so focused on Harry he hadn't spared a thought for the very real possibility that he might never see it again. Looking upon it now, Severus could honestly say he'd never been happier to be home in his life.

As he passed the wards guarding the grounds, his body began to unfurl, his muscles unwinding in gratitude, and he was suddenly exhausted. His body threatening a rebellion, he forced himself to walk briskly across the grounds, his steps only slowing as he looked up towards Gryffindor Tower.

Looking up at the windows, he felt a surge of relief through the bond and then a terrible anger. The last came in like a flood, and his body stiffened as he felt Harry's rage. He looked again, and though he knew he could see no one at this distance, he imagined he saw a tousled head of black hair in the window.

He lowered his face and thrust his hands deeper into his cloak, not allowing himself to think about Harry just now. He was safe in Lupin's rooms, where he would remain for the time being. Instead, he crossed the grounds quickly, reviewing what he had learned in his meeting with the Dark Lord and looking forward to disturbing Albus' sleep.

*

Harry stood at the window of Remus' rooms in Gryffindor Tower, his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes scanning the grounds.

He knew it might be hours, if not days, before Severus returned, but every time he'd made an attempt to sit down or—at Remus' prompting—sleep, he'd found his mind wandering to Severus, whose quiet panic was not allowing his mind to rest.

He was alive, Harry knew. Alive and uninjured, and for that Harry was grateful. But as much as he knew he could trust the bond, trust it to tell him if something happened to Severus, he knew he would not be able to rest until he was home.

His heart had clenched inside his chest as he felt Severus' emotions rolling over him so powerfully he thought he would drown in them.

At first there had been a subdued panic, as though Severus were marching off to a battlefield from which he'd not return. Then there'd been confusion and an odd wariness, as though he could almost feel Severus' hand on his wand, ready to pick it up and fight at a second's notice.

Then there was a quiet, introspective sort of bewilderment and then fear. It was the fear, around three in the morning, that had frightened Harry the most. All the while he'd paced Remus' rooms in Gryffindor Tower, aimlessly but not able to keep still. There was nothing he could do but wait.

Remus had tried to stay awake, Harry knew he had, but as he told him with yawn that he was only going to close his eyes for a moment, Harry knew he'd be pacing the night alone.

That left him here, looking out the window into the dawn, scanning the grounds for any sight of Severus.

Then suddenly...

_There._

Harry closed his eyes and exhaled a breath he'd been holding for hours. Severus was walking towards the castle, unharmed and whole. He felt the muscles in his shoulders unclench and his body relax for the first time all night and gave a soft sob of relief at witnessing Severus' quick, long stride cross the grounds towards the Entrance Hall.

He had expected that; expected to be glad to see Severus, relieved he was safe and home.

What he hadn't expected was the unchecked anger, the blinding rage that shortly followed.

Surprised at the sudden surge of fury, he lowered his head and clenched his fist as his anger coursed through him, as strong as the relief had felt just a moment before.

It took him a few minutes to understand what he was feeling, to truly comprehend the drastic change in his emotions. He looked down onto the grounds, watching Severus' long purposeful stride as he quickly made his way to the castle.

His breath coming in pants now, Harry closed his eyes and forced himself to calm, to think rationally and not allow his emotions to overcome him, especially when he had no idea why he was so angry.

He opened his eyes, just in time to watch as Severus looked up towards Gryffindor Tower. Though Harry knew he couldn't be seen from this height, he imagined that somehow their eyes were meeting and, in that moment, Harry realized something he should have known from the beginning.

Severus was never going to stop.

He was never going to forgive himself, never going to accept absolution from Harry or anyone else. He would never allow himself to put down his guilt, to give himself over to Harry and all the love he had to offer.

Harry was fighting for nothing: a dream of a future promised by entities he had never seen or fully understood, given to him by the memory of one night's passion, during which Severus hadn't even been in his right mind.

He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the window, barely noticing how cold he felt.

_I am such a fool._

Anger gave way to resignation, Harry's body unwinding and his muscles going limp as strong emotions left him, leaving him feeling empty and exhausted.

"Harry?" Remus said with the sudden exhale of breath that comes from waking quickly.

"Over here," Harry said, still leaning against the windowsill.

"You alright?"

"Yeah," Harry responded, not really concentrating on Remus. His eyes were still scanning the area Severus had walked. "Severus is back."

Remus sat up in his chair, seeming awake now at last. "Severus is—Oh, thank Merlin," he said, rubbing his eyes with relief. "Thank Merlin," he repeated and Harry knew he meant it, if not because he counted Severus as a friend, then for Harry's sake.

"Would you like to meet him in Dumbledore's office? I'm sure he's going there to report first."

Harry shook his head. No, he didn't want to talk to Severus now, didn't think he could stand to look at him feeling the way he was feeling.

"No," he said absently, then cast _Tempus_. It was half past seven. "I'm going to sleep. Quidditch is in a few hours."

"Quidditch—" Remus began to question, but cut himself off. "You're going to play?"

"Yeah," Harry said, looking around the room to see if he had left anything lying around; he hadn't. "No reason not to."

Giving him a speculative look, Remus rose from his chair and said, "Alright. You take the bed; I think I'm going to stay in this chair. More comfortable than it looks." Standing to remove his waistcoat, Remus quickly kicked off his shoes and then made to return to the position he had slept so peacefully in before.

"You rest in your own bed, Remus," Harry said starting for the door. "I'm going back to the dorms."

Remus turned to face him, his expression bewildered, and said, "You don't have to leave, Harry. You can stay for as long as you like."

Shaking his head, Harry opened the door to let himself out. "No, I can't. It's like you said—I need to be around my friends and not keep myself holed up here. It's not like it's doing any good anyway."

The words were still hanging in the air, the harshness of his tone and the reality of what he had just said only now coming to Harry. He turned around and saw Remus' face fall slightly.

"I didn't—"

"I know what you meant. Though–" Remus cut himself off as he looked over Harry's face, then his body, as he seemed to realize something was wrong, something new. "What's happened? What changed from the time I went to sleep until now?"

Harry looked at Remus, really looked at him, and knew he owed him an answer. Glancing behind him, he laid his eyes on the windowsill where he had kept a lookout all night for a man who cared nothing for his opinion, nothing for him.

At least not in a way that really mattered. Not even dropping to his knees had been enough for Severus...

He shook his head to be rid of the memories of last night, then looked up to address Remus.

His voice sounded solemn even to his own ears as he said, "He's not going to stop, is he, Remus?"

There was no need to clarify exactly whom Harry was talking about. They both knew what name lay between them, whose name was on both their lips.

A sad smile graced Remus' face as he looked at Harry, a heaviness in his eyes. "I really don't know. But I hope—"

"Don't patronize me," Harry said in a hiss, his anger bubbling up again. "Don't just tell me what you think I want to hear! After everything—after last night..." he trailed off and ran a hand through his hair. "I'm such an idiot, a goddamned fool, following around after someone who's made it very clear he wants nothing to do with me."

"But you haven't," Remus said quietly, his soft expression revealing what his actions did on a daily basis—his absolute affection for Harry. "You haven't been following after him and you certainly haven't been an idiot. You gave him his space, allowed him to think—"

"And a lot of good it did," Harry interrupted. "I was on my knees, Remus, on my fucking knees, and he still—" Harry tore his glasses off his face and lowered his head, humiliated by last night's behavior in the harsh light of day. "He's been very clear about...all of this..." Harry said, waving a hand around the room. "I've been the stupid one; I've been the one who wasn't listening."

Quietly, as though afraid of startling him, Remus began to speak very slowly. "I don't think that's true. I think you've done everything right and if you just hold out hope a little longer–"

"I'm sorry..." Harry cut Remus off, then stalled him with a hand. "I really don't want to hear about hope right now. Hope never did a damn thing for me."

"Harry..." he started to say, then seemed to realize there was nothing to be said, no comfort to be given.

Putting his glasses back on, Harry looked down towards the floor as he considered what it was he wanted to say. Finally, he looked up and said, "You know what's the difference between us, Remus?"

A shake of his head was Remus' only response.

"You were smart enough not to fall in love with your Severus."

Harry left before Remus could take his eyes off the floor.

*

"Tea?"

"Tea."

"Tea?" Dumbledore asked again. His shock would have been more amusing to Severus if he weren't so concerned about the strange emotions coming from Harry.

Concentrating on the conversation at hand, Severus responded again, "Tea." He cleared his throat and took a sip of his own brew, which Dumbledore had given him upon his arrival. If he'd seemed a bit surprised that Severus had actually accepted, he'd hidden it well. "And then brandy."

Dumbledore looked flummoxed and collapsed into his chair. Severus commiserated, his mind wandering as Dumbledore remained quiet, allowing Severus to review what he would and would not say in his report.

Of course, he really could understand Dumbledore's astonishment. After all, he truly hadn't expected Severus to return.

And though—despite what Harry might think—Severus did not have a death wish, he'd doubted his chance of survival as well.

It felt like far longer than nine hours since he'd stood in this office, fear coursing through him at the thought of his potential, even imminent death; far longer since Harry had been on his knees, begging him to stay. And yet there had been no question in his mind, no possible way he could have acquiesced to his demands; he'd had to go.

And he had, using all his control to keep his bodily movements fluid, his jaw unclenched and expression languid. It took every last ounce of his strength to keep up such a facade, but it was what was required of him if he was to survive.

He'd Apparated from Hogwarts, expecting to meet the Dark Lord's full company of Death Eaters, all of them lined up and ready for his arrival, just as they had been the last time he was called. He'd known the possibility existed that his role as a spy had been discovered and his breath stilled as he arrived to answer the summons. He stood outside the front doors of whichever Death Eater's house the Dark Lord was inhabiting now and went over his actions towards Harry in the last month. Had his gaze lingered too long during supper one evening? Or perhaps someone had seen him accost Draco before he'd put up his privacy sphere? Or had a student seen some stray glance he had cast, some slip of his control that had betrayed him to his death?

Whatever the nature of the meeting, he hoped it would provide some insight into the Dark Lord's plans, some instruction. Any shred of information that could be useful to the Order. Though he knew it was far more likely that he was called to report, he couldn't help the cold panic, the absolute terror that hit him as he opened the door to the house.

As he stepped into a dark room, he allowed himself to wonder whether Harry would feel pain if he died.

Pettigrew met him in a hallway and he forced himself to toss away any thoughts of Harry not directly linked to his mission; his fear reigned in and controlled.

He walked into a large, empty room, his steps pausing for only a moment before he continued. For an instant, he'd nearly panicked, nearly given himself away.

In all the different scenarios he'd imagined for this meeting—entering a room full of Death Eaters waiting to murder him among them—he had never expected this.

The Dark Lord was sitting in the room alone.

The lone chair sitting across from him made it clear that Severus was to be his only audience.

Carrying a tea tray, Pettigrew ushered him into the room and he found a cozy chair by the fire awaiting him, as though he were simply a guest of the home, not a servant being called upon. The Dark Lord sat in a very comfortable looking chair across from his own, and though he looked no more human than the last time Severus had seen him, his composure was calm and collected. He looked like any man might upon receiving a guest to his home.

Severus had also not expected to be asked about his health, general news from Hogwarts and his opinion on the state of Lucius' brandy. Though he could neither smell a potion in his tea, nor see any obvious trap or person hiding in the shadows, Severus remained wary and vigilant, expecting a heavy hand to fall any moment.

If someone had thought to look in on the conversation, they would simply appear to be two men having a polite discussion.

Instead, he sat for hours listening to the Dark Lord talk about the status of his Death Eaters, how he longed to be out on the raids and how tiresome Pettigrew's company had become.

Severus had tried to interject, to learn something about any forthcoming violence, but the Dark Lord steered him away from any conversation that would potentially lead to any new information.

It was only in the middle of the night that he'd finally asked about Severus' mission concerning Harry, but not as a master addressing a servant. Instead, it was done between sips of brandy, casually, as though he were asking Severus his opinion on the weather.

With practiced ease, Severus issued his report, his sneers and snide comments on Harry's lack of intelligence and breeding coming smoothly after years of practice.

The Dark Lord had only nodded his head and told him he'd heard similar reports of their fast friendship from his spies at Hogwarts. It seemed Draco had kept his end of the deal, after all. He sat and listened, laughing darkly if Severus said something particularly vicious about Harry and asking pertinent questions about his mental health. Was he still distraught over the loss of the blood traitor and did he seem even more despondent as he had in the last year?

Severus felt his throat clench momentarily as he realized what his answer had to be. Yes, the Dark Lord's blow to Harry's mental health had been successful and yes, he truly did seem to be only a shadow of what he once had been.

But the last time he'd thought on these answers, they hadn't been true. The last time he'd rehearsed this speech, Harry had been happy, with him, in the dungeons.

Still, he gave his report without missing a beat, the Dark Lord signaling to Pettigrew periodically to bring more brandy.

Sitting there in the Dark Lord's presence was far more difficult than standing in a circle of followers had ever been. He'd had to control his fear completely, which meant ignoring Harry's worry.

He'd smirked, laughed darkly and lifted an eyebrow at all the appropriate moments. And though he appeared outwardly relaxed, he'd half-expected an ambush all night. When it did not come, his fear did not disappear.

It multiplied.

Suddenly, something Dumbledore had been saying all summer became true to him. Sitting across from the Dark Lord, watching Pettigrew pour out liquor into crystal glassware, Severus knew without a doubt that the Dark Lord had gone completely insane.

"I must say I am relieved to see you, Severus," Dumbledore said, his relieved tone cutting into Severus' stream of thought. "Especially considering what happened last time."

Severus mumbled something under his breath and took another sip.

"But I am very surprised that the meeting went so well for you."

Severus frowned as a surge of some emotion he couldn't properly identify came through the bond, but he once again forced himself to concentrate on Dumbledore.

"I wouldn't say it went well, Albus. I may have returned unharmed, but that does not mean the meeting was a success."

With a wave of his hand, Dumbledore dismissed his words. "I expected nothing from your meeting, except your death. You are the only person who seems to think you're still trusted by Voldemort. In that respect, 'tea and then brandy' is very good news to me."

His frown growing deeper, Severus glared at Dumbledore before spitting out, "His actions towards me are not the actions of a sane man, Albus. One does not plan raids on Muggle towns and then discuss them over tea the following evening."

"No," Dumbledore said, with a small shake of his head. "No, one does not. But I have thought that Voldemort was losing his grip on his sanity for some time now. This is no news to me."

"He'd always been a sadist," Severus said into this teacup. "His current behavior, however, is...different. I believe he's gone completely mad, which doesn't bode well."

Dumbledore only shook his head in response.

They were silent for a moment, Severus weighing the events of the last few months in his mind as he tried to reason something from the madness.

Then, something broke through his meandering thoughts, some stray feeling that demanded his attention.

It was familiar, he knew, this niggling feeling in the back of his mind, some instinct that had kept him alive in the past; it began to eat away at him and he knew something was amiss.

"Has there been any sign? Anything, even the smallest news?" he asked, his tone betraying him in revealing his anxiety.

With a shake of his head, Dumbledore responded, "Nothing." He paused then said, "Not from any of our sources."

"Something's wrong," Severus said under his breath. The feeling grew stronger and he became uncharacteristically nervous. "Months without being called, and then I'm summoned...for tea."

"You said yourself that you'd been expecting to be called. The only thing that was unusual was the length of time between your summonses."

"Yes, but..." Severus trailed off as he tried to voice his suspicions, to put into words the terrible feeling he had building up inside him. He forced himself to ignore Dumbledore, his office and surroundings as he concentrated on the discomforting thought, the feeling, that wasn't coming from Harry. It almost seemed external, but that...

Then, as though a candle had been lit, Severus felt a whisper of a voice in his ear and recognized it instantly. He'd heard it several times before: the night he betrayed Lily to the Dark Lord, that day Lupin visited his potions lab, and, most especially, the night he had irrevocably bonded himself to Harry.

Suddenly, everything became clear to him as he recognized the faint whisper of Fate in his ear, clenching his fist in anger as he understood exactly what was happening and realized what needed to be done.

"Is the Slytherin match still on?" he asked with urgency, his body stiff with sudden dread.

Dumbledore frowned. "Yes. There's no reason for it to be otherwise."

"Cancel it," Severus demanded.

His frown only growing deeper, Dumbledore responded, "Why? You've just said you learned nothing."

Severus waved his hand, aiming for nonchalant, but failing miserably. "Call it an instinct, if you will, but something terrible is going to happen at the game."

Dumbledore furrowed his eyebrows and leaned back in his chair. "I'm not in the habit of canceling anything without a reason. Give me one, Severus. Any reason, and I will listen."

Severus shook his head, his hair swaying ridiculously, but he refused to give voice to his fears, refused to give any credence at all to any malevolent entity.

A questioning stare was aimed at him for a moment, then Dumbledore's eyes turned soft and sad. He smiled kindly at him and Severus knew that, for whatever reason, he would not be heard.

"Severus...after what happened last night here with Harry and then with Voldemort... It is natural that you would feel the need to protect him in any way you can. But canceling a Quidditch match is not going to resolve your problems. Only talking to Harry will do that."

Of course he would make assumptions, Severus inwardly grumbled as he considered how to explain himself.

"Albus, my...relationship with Harry has nothing to do—"

"After last night," Dumbledore repeated, "I would think that you would re-evaluate the way you've been treating him. For both your sakes, Severus. Perhaps you should think on what is really troubling you."

His heart beating like mad, Severus was only frustrated further by Harry's confusion and anger coming through the bond.

"Nothing is troubling me! I'm asking you to cancel the game and I fail to see why you will not do it."

"Because you cannot always get your way, Severus," Dumbledore said, all the kindness now gone from his voice. "Go to Harry before the game. Speak to him, truly speak to him, and see if there's a way to salvage your relationship."

Severus brought up a hand to run through his hair before—annoyed—he realized he was mimicking Harry, then brought it down again.

"You're not listening—"

"No," Dumbledore said sternly. "I'm not. There is no reason to cancel the game and Hogwarts is well warded. I've placed additional wards around the castle in the last few weeks that make it virtually impenetrable. Nothing is going to happen, Severus."

But Severus no longer heard Dumbledore. Instead, he was thinking of Harry, of the odd emotions running through him and how Severus knew something terrible was upon him.

"Tell Harry he can't play then. Remove him from the game," Severus pleaded.

His tone quickly going from stern to angry, Dumbledore said, "I will do no such thing. If Harry wishes to play, he'll play. You've taken enough from him, Severus. I'm surprised you would try to do such a thing."

Realizing he would not get what he needed from Dumbledore, Severus rose from his chair and made to leave the room, his steps large and hurried.

"When are you going to stop this, Severus?" Dumbledore called out as Severus opened the door.

But Severus didn't bother answering, not with Harry in danger. Knowing what needed to be done, he raced down the steps and out the door, resolving to do anything it would take to get Harry out of that game.

*

Sweeping into this rooms, Severus quickly grabbed a handful of Floo powder, tossed it in and cried out, "Remus Lupin's rooms, Hogwarts!" before sticking his head into the flames.

Turning his head in a desperate attempt to find Harry, Severus made out only a person in a tattered pair of pants and faded socks sitting in the armchair near the fire.

"Lupin!" he roared, too distraught to take any pleasure from the resulting jump as Lupin quickly woke from his sleep.

"Severus?" he questioned, rubbing his hand through his hair. "Has something happened?" he asked in a daze, and it seemed wrong to Severus that he was so calm.

"Where's Harry?" he asked, his eyes frantically searching the room, and considering going through uninvited before he realized seeing Harry now might not be to best idea.

"He's gone back to the dorm, but he should be up for breakfast soon. Why, what's happened?" Remus repeated, anxiety finally beginning to creep into his tone.

"Nothing," Severus said quickly, in no way eager to share his suspicions with Lupin. He weighed exactly how he should tell him about what he knew—what he felt was going to happen—but came up with nothing. There was simply no way to explain what he knew without completely embarrassing himself. Abandoning all pretense, he decided to tell Lupin what needed to be done.

"You have to tell Harry he can't play today."

Lupin's face instantly transformed from its usual calm to something suspicious and alert, as though the barked order reminded him there were no easy Saturday mornings for men such as they. "Why? What's happened, Severus? What have you learned?"

Breathing so hard the ash was threatening to blow upwards into his face, Severus clenched his teeth and said in a hiss, "I have reason to believe that something terrible will happen at the game today. You must tell Harry he cannot play."

"But what—"

"We are wasting time!" Severus yelled, his patience running out. His breath was coming in pants and the ash on the floor of the fireplace was beginning to make his eyes water. "Find Potter and tell him it is of the utmost importance that he not play today or I swear, Lupin, I'll–"

"You'll what, Severus? Be forced to speak with Harry yourself?" Lupin said, his face darkening. "I'm not sure I would do that right now if I were you. He's...in a very odd place. I'm not sure if you know this—"

"Lupin!" Severus interrupted. He failed to understand why no one was listening to him, even if his suspicions appeared to be unfounded. Was it not enough that he, a spy, who had been subjected to years of the Dark Lord's whims, thought it unwise for Harry to expose himself to a stadium of people? "Find Potter and tell him he cannot play! What will I be forced to do to get this through that thick, wolf-infected skull of yours?"

His face straight except for a twitch of his lip, Lupin stood to leave his sitting room. "Goodbye, Severus."

"No, wait, Lupin!"

"You want to speak to him so badly? If your message is so important, you can find him yourself. Goodbye, Severus," he repeated.

"Lupin!" Severus cried, desperate now, desperate for his message to reach Harry in time. "Please, Lupin. Something terrible is going to happen. I can't explain how I know, but I swear this is not for me."

Lupin turned around and faced the Floo, his eyes searching Severus' face, which he knew must be twisted and filthy. A long minute passed between them before Severus watched Lupin acquiesce, his features softening as they always did when Harry was concerned.

"I think Harry needed the distraction of Quidditch, but... Not at the cost of his safety," he finally said.

Severus let out a breath of relief. "Yes. Thank you," he said softly. "I have to prepare—" he cut himself off as he realized he wasn't entirely sure what he was preparing himself for, only that something was going to happen. He settled for giving Lupin a quick nod and said, "I'll see you both at breakfast."

Lupin nodded, and Severus stood up in the Floo, ending the connection. Though he was sure Harry would listen to Lupin, he didn't relax in the least. He knew if the Dark Lord was to attack the school, the attack would center around Harry. That meant if he was in the castle, the rest of the students would be safe.

Not willing to take any chances, Severus dashed up to breakfast to assure himself of Harry's acquiescence, his steps hurried and desperate.

*

"Tell him I said to sod off," Harry said into his eggs as Remus relayed Severus' message over breakfast. "I don't give a damn what he thinks."

Remus knew that was a lie, but said nothing.

"Harry, if Severus has reason to believe—"

"Severus is being a bastard. If there were any danger, Dumbledore would've canceled the game," Harry muttered under his breath, while Hermione cast surreptitious looks over her shoulder. "I'm done, Remus. I'm done listening to any fucking thing he has to say."

And just like that, he stood up and walked quickly to the doors, his stride long and purposeful, his intention clear.

Remus' eyes left him and flew up to the Head Table, meeting Severus'. His face was straight and his body language relaxed, but his eyes betrayed him; he knew exactly what had just happened.

Sitting down with the Gryffindors to eat his breakfast, Remus watched as Severus left the Great Hall a few moments later, flowing black robes seen swiftly crossing the room from the corner of his eye.

*

Severus didn't make it a habit to lurk under the Quidditch Pitch stands, yet there he stood looming in the shadows, waiting for Harry. From this vantage, he was able to keep an eye on parts of the pitch that were not watched by the faculty and so he kept his eyes open, half watching for Harry and half waiting for some sign of what was to come.

Finally, he heard the announcer give the call for the players to go onto the field and the students in the stands began to cheer. He was directly under the Gryffindor stand and he ducked farther into the shadows as he saw the team come out.

Harry was the last in a long line of his teammates, his eyes on the floor and his face despondent. Although he looked morose, Severus knew there was an anger brewing inside him and, though he knew Harry had plenty to be angry about, he admitted he had no idea what had him so troubled.

Not that it mattered at the moment. No, all that mattered right now was keeping Harry off the pitch.

"Harry," Severus said quietly, gaining his attention as the last of his teammates walked into the sunlight.

Harry stopped dead in his tracks, his body stiffening instantly.

_Rage_

_Desperation _

_Confusion_

Severus pushed aside the feelings coming through the bond and he walked quickly towards Harry, coming into his line of sight to better address him.

"Harry, listen to me," he said in a low voice. "You can't go out there—"

"Fuck off."

Severus stiffened, surprised by the darkness of Harry's tone, the words coming at him like a slap in the face. If this were any other person, he would either take points or feign indifference before offering some scathing retort, but the fact that this came from Harry...

"Right," Harry said, taking another step to catch up with the rest of his team.

"Wait!" Severus said, forcing himself to move when his confusion and hurt would've had him standing in shock for far longer. "Listen to me. You have every right to be angry, but what I have to tell you has nothing to do with you and me."

Harry closed his eyes and clenched his fist around his broom, the quiet stretching out, giving Severus a chance to speak.

"Harry, the Dark Lord—"

"Is there going to be an attack?" Harry interrupted.

The frankness of the question startled Severus, and he thought on what he knew, what he had learned. To say yes would not necessarily be a lie and he needed Harry off the pitch. "Yes," he answered, trying to keep a reign on his emotions.

Harry closed his eyes then bit his lip and shook his head.

"Liar," he hissed. "Doesn't work very well for either us, this bond, does it? You can't lie to me and I can't get you out of my head."

Cursing Fate, Severus held up a hand, needing Harry to hear him out.

"I am not exactly sure when the attack will take place, but I have a terrible feeling—"

"You have a feeling?" Harry repeated in an exasperated tone.

Severus held his tongue when he wanted nothing more than to snap at Harry for being so foolish. Why did he choose now to ignore Severus?

"I know you are angry and you have every right to be–"

"Oh, do I?" Harry said snidely, his face twisted in anger as Severus had never seen before. "Well, thank you. Thank you for giving me permission. Now if you don't mind, I have a game to play."

Grabbing his arm, Severus moved to physically restrain him from going onto the pitch, Harry's face turning downwards to take in the hand on his forearm.

"Harry, listen to me! I don't care if you're angry with me, you cannot play today. Something terrible is going to happen–"

"Shut up!" Harry yelled. "Just shut up! I don't want to listen to another word from you. Not one more fucking..." he trailed off and Severus felt a terrible hurt come from the bond, leaving him with an overwhelming desire to comfort Harry, yet knowing that was something he couldn't do.

"You wanted me gone," Harry said in a harsh whisper. "You wanted me to move on, to forget about you," he said while glaring at Severus, his features twisted in pain. "Fine. I'm through. Are you happy now? I'm done."

All the breath left Severus' body as he took in Harry's words. An icy chill crept down his spine and he swore he had never felt his heart ache like it did now. Harry's face fell, and he knew he was feeling what Severus felt, and he looked down. When he looked up again, it was with a renewed determination, as though he was forcing himself to say the words.

"I can't do this anymore," Harry whispered. "You might think it, but I'm not a fool—"

"I've never thought you were a fool," Severus responded, the niggling feeling in the back of his mind beginning to prod him again, reminding him of his task. He had no idea what to tell Harry, the pain in his heart overwhelming all logic.

This is what he'd wanted all along, after all. He'd wanted Harry to move on, to leave him behind. But faced with the reality of it...

His thoughts were cut off as a whisper played by his ear, forcing his mind back to reality. "You can't play today. Something..." but he trailed off, hardly able to speak to Harry when he was looking at him this way—his eyes desperate and face twisted.

"Is that all you can say?" Harry asked with a gasp, then waved himself off. "Forget it. I don't want to hear what you have to say."

"Harry, this has nothing to do with me."

"You're lying!" Harry screamed before forcing himself to calm, taking deep, heaving breaths as the silence stretched out. "I don't care," he said, his voice suddenly sounding small, his body turned in on itself. "I would have waited...followed after you like some...dog," he said in a hiss, shaking his head. "Forever. But I'm not the idiot you think I am." And with that he turned to walk onto the pitch.

Severus watched him go for a moment, feeling as though his heart was leaving with him, as though all the light was walking away from him, never to be seen again. Seeing him approach the pitch, he remembered what he needed to do and rushed to catch up with him, his hand once again clutching Harry's arm, but Harry yanked it away.

"Fuck off!"

"Harry—"

"No!" he shouted and moved to go onto the field again.

Having no idea what else to do, Severus lifted his wand, and silently cast _Incarcerous_, regretting it in the same instant he did it.

He had trained Harry well in the summer months, but not well enough to deflect a spell wandlessly, with his back turned. He spun around at the very last instant, Severus moving to anticipate his fall, but the spell just bounced off him.

_Oh._

Severus closed his eyes and cursed Fate. In addition to protecting themselves from each other, it seemed the bond wouldn't allow him to bind Harry against his will.

"You're pathetic," Harry said harshly, but his features betrayed him. It was clear what he thought of Severus' supposed treachery, a terrible pain radiating through the bond.

For a moment, Severus contemplated physically wresting Harry to the ground, but realized that after the night he'd just had, Harry might have the upper hand. A curse upon his lips, he watched Harry leave the shadow of the stands and walk into the sunlight, his eyes on the floor and his shoulders slumped.

Resigning himself to be prepared for what was coming, Severus quickly walked around to the teacher's box, cursing himself for feeling pain at finally getting what he had wanted all along.

*

Gritting his teeth, Harry took to the field, both teams lined up waiting for him to begin the game.

"Any time you're ready, Potter!" Madam Hooch cried as he approached. His mind was hardly on the game, his movements automatic as he stepped into his place with his team, his mind on Severus and exactly how far he was willing to go in his lies.

Suddenly, a shadow moved into the sunlight, cutting across Harry's field of vision.

"You ready for me, Potter?"

Harry looked up and met Malfoy's eyes for the first time in over a month, his expression full of hatred and loathing. Whatever fear he'd acquired from Severus' death threats seemed to have faded, his face twisted in a sinister sneer.

Harry ignored Malfoy and looked toward the teacher's stand, Severus sitting next to Dumbledore, Remus on the bench below him. He forced himself to look away, to stop thinking of Severus, if only for the time spent playing the game.

_Please, just let me forget for a little while._

The whistle blew and Harry took off, forcing himself to fall into the familiar pattern of looking out for the Snitch, his eyes only occasionally betraying him as they drifted towards Severus.

Scanning the skies, he saw no sign of it and began flying around the other players with his eyes peeled when suddenly he was nearly thrown from his broom.

Malfoy had crashed into him and with the Snitch nowhere in sight, Harry knew there couldn't even be a feigned reason. He thought he might have heard Hooch cry out something, but he couldn't make it out. Not wanting to be a sitting target, he began to fly faster, forcing himself not to simply hex Malfoy off his broom and save himself the trouble.

A moment later he saw a shimmer of gold and took off in a flash after it, eager to get his mind into the game and off Malfoy and Severus, who Harry saw watching him from the stands.

Predictably, as soon as he had turned after the Snitch, Malfoy came crashing into his broom again, but unlike previous years, he didn't simply seem to want to beat Harry to the Snitch.

No, winning the game hardly seemed important to Malfoy—his main goal seemed to be throwing Harry off his broom.

Pushing, he shouldered Malfoy away from him and took off in another direction, the Snitch long gone by now. Malfoy simply flew after him, his broom colliding again with Harry's own, trying his hardest to push him off.

He could hear the announcer's voice screaming something against the wind, but Harry paid it no mind.

Harry took out his wand, a hex ready on his lips, when suddenly he realized how high up they were. Not wanting Malfoy dead, no matter how tempting it might be, Harry refrained from casting a spell, instead taking a sharp dive to escape the attack.

Malfoy was several broom lengths behind him when suddenly he saw spell light pass him by and turned around to see exactly what was happening.

Eyes wide, Harry removed his wand just in time to defend himself against Malfoy's attack.

"_Expelliarmus_!"

The spell Malfoy shouted was lost to the wind, but Harry saw spell light come towards him and dodged it, taking a sharp dive with his broom.

_Panic_

_Dread_

_Fear_

Harry pushed Severus' emotions away from him and aimed his broom higher, trying his hardest to get away from Malfoy before either of them could kill the other. He was high above the Pitch now, with Malfoy no longer in sight.

Taking a breath, Harry hovered for a moment and looked for Malfoy among the Slytherin players but couldn't find him. His eyes scanned the Pitch below him and then the skies around him, ready for an attack.

Severus had been worried before, but suddenly Harry felt a cold dread pass through him and he knew something was wrong, something far greater than Malfoy with a grudge.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw something black on the horizon.

Turning his head, his eyes went wide as he felt his heart drop.

There, coming right towards him, was a team of Death Eaters and in the center—

"Ah!" he cried out and gripped his head pointlessly as sharp pain erupted in his scar and he struggled to stay on his broom. For a moment, he thought he felt Severus protect his mind as he had that night with Dumbledore down in the dungeons.

But whatever attempt he made to stand between Harry and Voldemort was barely working, numbing the pain only enough for Harry to open his eyes and see the figures coming closer, red eyes focusing on him.

Panicked now, Harry winced and tried to ignore the pain, tried to allow Severus to do whatever he needed so he could still function enough for him to keep his eyes open and his mind clear. He knew what he had to do.

His mind only on his friends and Severus, he turned his broom around and began to lead Voldemort and the Death Eaters away from the Pitch. It was him they wanted, and no one else was going to die in the crossfire. Not if he could help it.

*

Remus watched as Harry ascended to the sky on his broom, and heard Severus telling Dumbledore to end the game now while there was still a chance. He slowly stood up as he kept his eyes on Harry, looking where he was looking.

There, coming from the direction of the Forbidden Forest...

"My God–Severus!" he cried, pointing to a dozen figures in black cloaks.

"Merlin forgive me," he heard Dumbledore cry before he cast _Sonorous_. "All teachers get the students back inside the castle!"

The students and faculty had finally taken notice of what was happening in the sky and the crowd erupted into panicked screams. Remus heard the frightened high-pitched cry of the younger students as the older years began to flee, many of them trying to grab the younger ones as they ran.

Severus was already standing next to him, eyes flashing from him to Harry. Suddenly, his collar was seized and Severus was screaming, "Get the Slytherins inside!"

Remus tried to tear himself from Severus' grip, but was unable, his hands clenched around his collar for dear life, his concern for the students raging but his main concern Harry.

"But Harry–"

"I will help Harry, you get my students to safety!" And with that he released Remus and began to run down the steps of the teacher's box, his eyes never leaving the sky.

Remus forced himself to look away and began his run towards the Slytherin stand. "Mr. Zabini!" he cried, finally recognizing someone who wasn't directly related to a Death Eater. "Help me get the students inside!"

*

Dumbledore took in the panicked crowd of students and parents, all fleeing towards the castle and ran with Severus to help Harry. His mind was examining the situation, trying to think of the best way to come to Harry's aid, and all the while wondering how this was possible. How had Death Eaters managed to trespass into Hogwarts?

He pushed aside his concerns when he spied brooms littering the floor where students had dropped them as they fled.

Quickly summoning two of them, he turned his eyes back to the skies, realizing that there were no Death Eaters on the ground, and not one of them had fired a spell at any of the children or the teachers. The violence was completely confined to the sky, and while Dumbledore feared for his safety, he realized Harry was deliberately keeping them away from the students.

And at risk to his own life.

Mounting their brooms, they took to the sky, but not before Dumbledore put a hand on Severus' arm to ask the most pressing question.

"The bond—"

But the panicked look on Severus' face stopped him and he realized that his worst fears were coming true. The bond had not been matured and Severus was no better able to help Harry now than he had been that first day in the dungeons.

With a shake of his head, Severus confirmed this, his face pale and torn with dread. As they took off after Voldemort and the Death Eaters, Dumbledore realized they were both to blame for what was happening.

But it was much too late for regret, he thought as the wind screamed past him, errant spells flying past his head. There was nothing to be done now.

A curse on his lips, he removed his wand from his sleeve.

*

Severus was hardly able to think in his panic. The wind was tossing his hair into his face and making it impossible to hear what spells were being cast at Harry; there was no way to shield him, no way to protect him.

With a burst of speed, Dumbledore flew by him, shouting a spell that knocked two Death Eaters off their brooms, bringing them closer to the Dark Lord.

Gritting his teeth, Severus flew closer, taking aim and casting the Killing Curse at him, praying his attempt would not be as futile as he thought it would be.

His thoughts only on protecting Harry, he cast the killing curse again, then again, knocking one Death Eater from his broom, Severus then slipped into the fallen man's place.

Enraged with a fevered panic, Severus thrust an elbow at the closest Death Eater in an attempt to rid the Dark Lord of his guard in any way he could. The hooded Death Eater seemed unprepared for such an attack and Severus threw him off his broom, nearly losing his own grip as he tried to take Severus with him.

Turning his head to look for Harry, Severus saw Dumbledore approach the Dark Lord. Though he wanted to be the one to help Harry, Dumbledore was closer, and he knew it would fall to him to handle the remaining Death Eaters instead.

Suddenly, the world faded away as he felt a terrible strain upon himself and all the breath left his body. He felt Harry cry out for him, felt the bond pull at him, the ties that bound them together tugging at him desperately as it never had before, but it would not give. Severus had no idea what had happened, but he used all his strength to lend anything he could to Harry, and cried out as he felt him dwindle to almost nothing. As though he could literally feel Harry slipping away, he grabbed on tighter, hoping, praying for it to be enough.

He had no idea whether or not he succeeded and could do nothing as he felt Harry cry out in pain, the echo of it causing Severus to seize as the Death Eaters broke away to defend the Dark Lord.

Like an almost audible cry, he heard Harry beg for his help, the bond screaming at him to lend his powers to Harry, but he was unable. The bond wasn't strong enough.

He looked forward and watched the aftermath of what he had felt happen. Voldemort and the remaining Death Eaters were flying away, while Dumbledore had pulled out his wand and aimed it at Harry.

Severus' body went stiff as he looked on, seeing how Harry sat limply on his broom, one arm hooked around the handle and his legs dangling. Then, to Severus' utter horror, Harry slid slightly, his head bobbing, before falling from the sky.

Severus' soul went with him.


	31. What You Leave Behind

A/N: This story is rated M and while some chapters might be beyond tame, there will be sex and violence. I promise.

This chapter is dedicated to the lovely people at SeverusSighs, in particular Winoniel, HPStrangelove, LD7, Jak, Shadowrayven and BertaS who made me blush the other day during our meet-up. I hope you ladies like this.

Thanks to Torina for always looking over my plot and to thesewarmstars and WhiteCotton for a fantastic beta job.

This chapter was so difficult to write, and I'm so glad it came out the way it did. All on SeverusSighs know how difficult it was (and I do apologize for the whining) and I thank you for your kind words.

As always, thank you for your reviews. They all mean so much to me. If anyone would like to discuss the chapter, you can always find me at SeverusSighs.

* * *

"Desperation is the raw material of drastic change. Only those who can leave behind everything they have ever believed in can hope to escape." -- William S. Burroughs

-

Severus hadn't said a word when Dumbledore told him to remain outside the Infirmary while he and Poppy attended to Harry. He'd barely been able to nod his head, his powers of speech vanishing as the door slammed shut, leaving him in the empty hallway. He sat down in the chair someone had conjured for him and tried to feel Harry through the bond.

His entire body shaking, his defenses gone and his whole being blasted open, he closed his eyes and found the cord that connected them.

It felt weak. Harry felt weak. He tried once again to give him his own strength, praying that what he hadn't been able to do before would somehow work this time.

It didn't. It simply lay there, this fragile thing connecting them no stronger than the day Severus had created it.

Opening his eyes, he sat, his hands gripping the seat of his chair until his knuckles were white, and found himself completely undone.

_Merlin, what have I done?_

In all his life, he had never felt so powerless. Not since Lily...

No, he thought. It hadn't been like this, he hadn't felt like this even when Lily died. Lily had been his only real friend. His betrayal had led to her death and a lifetime of struggling for atonement, but even then he had never felt so completely disarmed, so utterly destroyed.

He lifted a hand to his face and was unsurprised to find it shaking. Looking towards the door, he closed his eyes and allowed his thoughts to drift over Harry.

Severus was an unbeliever. Benevolent deities did not exist in his world and yet, in a moment of pure helplessness, he found himself sorely tempted to believe.

"Please..." he started, but had no idea to whom he was speaking, who would bother to listen. He cupped his hands around his mouth and shuddered, closing his eyes and simply repeating, "Please," one more time before closing his eyes, once again trying to find Harry.

He barely registered the sound of another chair being Conjured or the sound of weight shifting as whoever was next to him sat down.

"Your Slytherins are fine. They're all present and accounted for...except Draco Malfoy."

Severus opened his eyes and looked to his right, into the harsh, angry glare of Remus Lupin.

"What?" he said, not having registered Lupin's words.

"Your students are in their dorm. They're all fine," he repeated and turned his eyes to the door of the infirmary. "Harry?" he asked.

Severus started to say that he didn't know, that Dumbledore and Poppy were in with him and no one had told him anything, but he doubted his capacity to speak without his voice shaking. He settled for shrugging and found he didn't care in the least if he looked like a fool incapable of answering a simple question.

Lupin stared at him for another moment then resumed watching the door, and at once Severus was glad Lupin was here, if only so he didn't have to suffer this alone.

And wasn't that a surprise.

The silence between them stretching, Severus continued watching the door, waiting, each minute feeling like an eternity. His thoughts again began to wander over Harry, over how awful their last encounter had been, how Harry finally realized what Severus had known all along: that he was far better than what Severus deserved.

Suddenly, he realized the ridiculousness of the situation. Harry didn't want him here. He wanted to move on, to do what Severus had both hoped and feared for the past two months. He wouldn't want to see him here if—when he woke up. He had made that very clear in their last conversation.

Dejected, Severus looked around and saw Lupin still staring at the door, not a whisper of sound coming through the cracks. Whatever was wrong with Harry, he could learn of later. He shouldn't be here... Not when Harry had made his feelings on the matter clear.

He rose on shaking legs to make his way back to his dungeons, to hide his shame and grief in his quarters, not sparing a thought to anyone who might see the state he was in along the way.

"Sit down!"

Severus turned his head with a snap at the barked command, Lupin's voice never having sounded so harsh.

Their eyes met and Severus found not an ounce of pity, not a fragment of understanding or Lupin's usual good nature. It seemed Severus had outrun Lupin's seemingly endless capacity for patience and understanding at last.

He looked towards the doors again, and while a part of him wanted to ignore Lupin's words, another part forced him to pay attention.

Harry was on the other side of that door. He might not want to see Severus, but Severus could no sooner be away from Harry...

Severus faltered and sank back down onto his chair, brushing off the hand that came out to steady him.

Though he'd hated it, Severus had borne the weight of separation for the past months knowing without a doubt that he should be away from Harry. Sitting here, waiting to see if the only man he'd ever loved was going to live or die, brought a profound sense of change.

Severus didn't want to go to the dungeons because Harry wasn't there. With a soft groan, Severus bowed his head and cursed himself.

"Are you not done yet, Severus?" Lupin said, his voice full of venom, but before Severus could answer, the door to the infirmary swung open and Dumbledore walked out.

"Severus..." he began, his steps fatigued and his expression weary. He looked over to both of them before Lupin stood up and sped past him, not waiting to hear whatever Dumbledore had to say.

Severus wanted to follow him, but Dumbledore lifted a hand to hold him off and began to speak. "Severus..."

"How is he?"

"There's nothing physically wrong with him. He was hit with only one spell..."

"What was it?"

"...but I'm not entirely sure what spell Voldemort used. I only know his intention."

Growing frustrated, his eyes darting between Dumbledore and the door to the infirmary, Severus gritted his teeth and asked, "Which was?"

With a sigh, Dumbledore said in a tired tone, "Voldemort has always desired immortality, and I believe we now know what he aimed to accomplish when he ordered the attack on the Hogwarts Express."

Sitting down in the chair Lupin had just vacated, Dumbledore sighed and removed his glasses, rubbing his eyes for a moment while Severus seethed. In the corner of his eye, he saw someone walk quickly past him and into the infirmary, his head turning just fast enough to catch sight of Hermione Granger tearfully closing the door.

"The spell he used would have removed Harry's soul and strengthened his own to the point of immortality."

Severus paled and, without realizing what he was doing, closed his eyes again and tried to feel Harry through the bond.

"It failed," Dumbledore said quickly, putting a hand on Severus' arm. "His body is...fine. There's not a thing wrong with him, but we aren't able to wake him. I believe the spell failed—the only way Harry was able to survive—due to the bond."

Severus met his eyes, looking for recrimination there, for the anger and the disappointment that had been so clear in Lupin, but found none.

"It seems there was a reason for it, after all," Dumbledore said plainly. "If you had not bonded..." He paused, and thoughts of Harry's death, or worse—soulless existence—ran through Severus' mind. The clearing of a throat brought him back to the present, away from those nightmares.

"If you had not bonded, I am sure that Harry would be dead now, and Voldemort immortal."

Severus sank down in his chair again, his body betraying him with its shaking.

"Do you understand now, Severus?"

A heavy weight sank down upon his shoulders and anger flared within him; anger at himself, for all he had and had not done for Harry. He turned towards Dumbledore, his features twisted in a sneer, and hissed through his teeth, "Are you going to place the blame where it belongs? Hmm? Tell me this is completely my fault, that I should never have sent Harry away? That I should—"

"No," Dumbledore said plainly. "No, I'll do nothing of the sort. There's nothing left to say that I haven't already said, Severus."

Twisting himself in his seat, Dumbledore turned to look at Severus. "And besides," he said, looking away, "You are not the only one at fault."

Allowing himself to be petty for a moment, Severus turned and realized that if he desired, he could call Dumbledore out for not canceling the game. That he could share the blame for Harry's current situation with him. But to do so would be to downplay his own actions, and what he had done had been far more terrible than Dumbledore's inaction.

Still, he was curious.

"How did they get through the wards?"

Dumbledore looked down. "They didn't."

Something twisted in Severus' chest as a dozen possible scenarios ran through his mind. "Oh?"

"The wards are completely intact. They walked through the main gate."

Stunned beyond rage, Severus held his tongue, wanting nothing more than to tear him to shreds for his presumption. "You added wards to the castle, but not the grounds."

Dumbledore nodded and the silence stretched between them.

"I did not expect an attack to come in plain sight," he said, his voice full of regret. "This... In a hundred years, I would have never anticipated..."

Severus wanted to take pity on him, realizing he could hardly blame Dumbledore for Harry's state, but couldn't. He simply turned away from him, his eyes wandering towards the door.

Suddenly, it opened and Lupin walked out, his face pale and worried. He looked to Dumbledore and said, "I'll be in my rooms." He deliberately did not look at Severus as he added, "Let me know when he wakes up."

Dumbledore nodded and they said nothing as Lupin left them, the silence stretching out for a long moment.

"Well," Dumbledore said, rising. "There is nothing I can do for him. The only thing that may help is you. Go to him; let him know you're there. It may be the only thing that can wake him." He looked down on Severus and gave him a sad smile, then gripped his arm firmly. There was a deep sadness radiating from him, and Severus took notice of it, as it mirrored his own.

"It's not too late, my boy." His smile disappeared as he turned and walked away, his steps slow and his shoulders slumped.

Severus watched as he left, then slowly turned his head towards the door, fearing it as though death itself was waiting for him on the other side. It would tear his heart out to see Harry hurt, and yet he could no more stay away than he could deny his next breath.

With no thought as to what he was doing, he stood up and began to walk through the door. Harry was on the other side and if Severus could help him...

Before he could begin to regret his decision, he opened the door and walked inside.

From the shadows, he looked within and his steps faltered. There, in the first bed, lay Harry, who looked far paler than Severus could remember ever seeing him before. His hair was still in disarray after his panicked flight from the Dark Lord and his lips were almost white. Though Severus knew there was no fever, he looked ill, as though he was simply under the weather and any number of potions could cure him.

Though he hated seeing Harry injured, he still breathed a sigh of relief at seeing him; at seeing with his eyes that he was alive.

"Professor Snape?"

He turned his head towards the voice, his thoughts torn away from Harry as he took in the figure by his bed that he hadn't cared to notice until now. Hermione Granger sat in the little chair Harry had occupied when Severus himself was in the infirmary, Harry's hand within hers.

His eyes focused upon it and he sneered.

"Should I move? Do you need to give Harry a potion? Madam Pomfrey said—"

The girl broke off and Severus couldn't force himself to care why, his eyes moving from her hand holding Harry's back to that beloved face, scanning for any sign of life, anything that could give him hope. He took in everything he had been missing, looking on Harry the way he'd wanted to for months now, but had been unable. His thoughts and emotions were scattered within him and he had no idea what he was doing still standing there when he should be next to Harry...

Or perhaps he shouldn't be here at all.

"Oh," said a voice near the bed, and Severus was reminded there was another person in the room, her eyes scanning his face as though she had never seen him before.

Her face was almost comical in its shock. She looked at him with wide eyes, as though her mind was working overtime to understand whatever it was she was seeing.

"Oh," she repeated, and this time she let go of Harry's hand as she said it. "You," she said softly, her eyes boring into Severus.

Having no idea what the girl was talking about, Severus looked at her curiously, not trusting his voice at the moment. The question, however, seemed to be understood, and Granger responded to his silent inquiry.

"It's you. I never would have imagined... How—oh. The summer?"

"Make sense, girl," Severus said, his voice no louder than a whisper.

"You're..." she began, but she broke off and looked over at Harry on the bed, Severus' eyes drawn there as well. "Harry said that he'd...found someone. I never would have thought it was you. Even with the summer..."

Severus said nothing and approached the bed, Granger standing up and taking a step back as he swooped down and took Harry's hand in his, hardly able to help himself.

"He's been sad," she said tentatively, softly as though she only then realized to whom she was speaking. "I thought it was because of Ron, and I..." she trailed off, but Severus was hardly listening to her. His eyes were on Harry, his thoughts racing as he tried to decide what to do, whether he should stay or go.

"Was it because of the headmaster? Or the board of governors?"

Not turning to look at her, he said in a hiss, "Ask a question or get out."

There was blessed silence for a few moments, then she said, "Harry said you loved him, that he was sure of it, but... Well, it was clear that you weren't together. The only thing that makes any sense is—"

"Be quiet!" he said, his teeth clenched as he closed his eyes and tried to find Harry, tried to reach out to him. The cord that bound them was still fragile, but Severus could feel him more easily when he was touching him. He grasped Harry's hand tighter and concentrated.

The physical contact helped. He couldn't explain exactly how he was doing it or what he was doing, but he knew he was sending his strength to Harry. He felt the fragile cord that bound them together stronger now, his hands on Harry's, and he closed his eyes to concentrate harder.

"Professor Snape."

Severus said nothing and tried to ignore her, tried to concentrate on Harry and the little help he was able to give him. He heard footsteps and then could sense someone next to him. He ignored her, his thoughts only on Harry, but the minutes stretched on and he wanted nothing more than to be alone with him.

He turned to look at her, knowing that his face revealed his every emotion yet unable to summon any strength to hide it.

Her face was straight as she looked down on him, her shoulders squared but her body tense as she said, "I don't know what's happened between you—"

"Then perhaps you should mind your own business."

"—but do you realize how lucky you are? He could have died!" she said, raising her voice so that Severus could clearly hear the quiver at the end. "Whatever it is that's come between you, is it worth it?"

The audacity, the sheer cheek of the girl had Severus seething, his anger flaring. He glared at her, but didn't dare speak, not even to command her to shut her mouth. His emotions were too raw and he suspected his voice would waver with anything he said.

He heard soft footsteps and then Granger was leaning down to kiss Harry on the cheek, and murmuring something Severus couldn't hear into his ear. He grimaced and glared at her as she looked once more at him, then left the room.

Alone now with Harry, Severus tried to push away his racing thoughts and simply take in that which he had been missing for months now. Looking down on him, Severus used his fingers to trace the contours of Harry's face: the softness of his lips and beloved eyes, the slight scruff on his cheek. He vaguely remembered the night of their bonding, the details of their coupling not as clear as he would have liked them to be. He allowed himself to look his fill and touch Harry's face in a way he'd never permitted himself before.

Severus truly did not deserve him.

And yet seeing him in the infirmary, injured in a way that no one but Severus could heal...

Severus closed his eyes and admitted defeat. He could no longer deny Harry, no longer deny their shared destiny. Harry needed him, needed his protection, and the bond needed to be matured. The fight he had been fighting for what felt like ages died and Severus felt at once immense relief and the greatest of guilt.

This was what he'd wanted all along. He wanted Harry, needed Harry and now he would have him. But to what end? Harry would know his intentions; he could hardly hide it from him. He would know the reason he'd finally given in and hate him for it.

The thought of seeing Harry's beautiful face twisted in anger turned Severus' stomach and he knew that Harry would never allow it. He would never be with Severus out of any sense of duty.

But where did that leave him? He needed to be with Harry, to protect him. He understood that now. But that didn't change the fact that he was no more worthy of him now than he had been a day ago.

Severus scoffed and brought up Harry's hand to his lips, his mind in turmoil.

*

Severus sat with him for the rest of the day and into the night. Granger had come by once more to check on Harry, but there had been no change aside from what Severus could feel. Lupin had come by three times, the last time pulling up a chair behind Severus and sitting in silence for an hour.

They all seemed to take in the way Severus was holding onto Harry with an odd look and then left them be. Severus was only too happy to see them go. With all he was, he poured his strength into the bond, praying for him to wake up, yet having no idea what he would do when that happened.

The moon shone through the windows of the infirmary, but Severus hardly noticed the time pass. He simply sat next to Harry, holding onto his hand for dear life.

He sat in the quiet, those who came and went respecting his silent wishes, until Dumbledore walked quietly into the room.

"How is he?"

Severus shook his head and said, "I have no idea."

Dumbledore said nothing and did not sit down. Instead he walked over to Severus and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"My dear boy," he began and Severus could hear the change in his tone in comparison to what it had been these past months. It was seeped with affection that, despite everything, he was grateful to receive.

"My most trusted friend..." Dumbledore started again, "I know you feel as though you are completely alone, that no one could possibly understand what you've gone through these past months, but you couldn't be more wrong."

Severus said nothing and silently hoped that Dumbledore was not planning on staying long, the relief at hearing a kind voice gone now that he could guess what was coming.

"Hasn't he suffered enough, Severus? Would you really continue this charade, denying your feelings when they're so very clear in everything you do?"

Severus shook his head, his thoughts over the last few hours coming out in a rush. "I know my responsibility. This is my...burden. My atonement. I realize I've...neglected it, but I know my task now."

Though he could not see it, his eyes still on Harry's pale face, Severus could almost hear Dumbledore shake his head.

"Love is never a burden, Severus. And do you truly think Harry will be happy living that way?"

Severus closed his eyes and his shoulders slumped. He knew Harry wouldn't be happy, but he could hardly fathom any other way to be, no other way he could possibly allow himself to ever be with someone as good and beautiful as Harry.

"No," he whispered, feeling exposed and torn open. "But how do I reconcile... He is... If not to protect him, if not to strengthen the bond, then to what end?"

"Do you love him?"

Severus jerked his head to the side, finally meeting Dumbledore's eyes and hissed, "Don't ask questions to which you already know the answers."

"Do you wish to see him happy, then?"

Severus turned back around and brought up Harry's hand to his face once again, wanting as much contact as possible.

"Yes," he answered, lost. He had no idea how to make anyone happy, let alone Harry.

"Tell me something, Severus. When was the last time you saw Harry happy?"

Looking down on his pale face, Severus took in the pained expression that twisted Harry's features, the same expression he'd worn for the last two months. It had been some time since he'd seen Harry smile, longer since he'd heard Harry laugh. He struggled to remember the last time he saw happiness in Harry's eyes and realized it had been months ago, the day of their bonding.

He'd hardly been lucid enough to remember, but Severus could recall Harry smiling, Harry happy and more than eager to accept any love Severus had to offer.

He sighed and closed his eyes again, his emotions twisted up within him, everything he knew about his own nature at war with what he knew of Harry.

"I hardly understood why Harry had no desire to leave the dungeons after you were well, Severus," Dumbledore said, his voice soft and calming, "but I was very glad to discover you had put your differences aside. I was...very blind to what was happening between the two of you. Well," he said, pausing to grip Severus' shoulder harder, "there's no fool like an old fool. But he was happy, Severus. He was very happy that summer, when he really had no right to be. Even then, he loved you that much."

Severus didn't want to believe it, wanted to hide behind his protections, the walls he had so perfectly arranged around himself. He closed his eyes as he felt the last of his defenses fall. Holding Harry's hand in his, he could no longer deny the truth.

"I understand that you feel unworthy of him, Severus. I do. You think you're receiving something precious that you don't deserve."

He heard soft footsteps and then brightly colored robes filled his vision and Dumbledore looked down upon him, his eyes misty, his sadness evident.

"But what you don't realize is that you're taking something precious from him as well. It is not up to you to decide your own worth and you don't get to choose for him, Severus. He's chosen you. And every day you deny him is only causing him more pain."

A hand patted his head slowly and Severus couldn't find the strength to pull away.

"We all make mistakes, my dear boy, but very few of us get a second chance to make things right. I believe Harry will wake up soon. I know you'll do the right thing."

And, with that, Dumbledore removed his hand and quickly walked out of the room. Upon hearing the door shut, Severus leaned over Harry's bed, burrowed his head into his chest, and wept.

Not caring that Harry could hardly hear him, he whispered into his nightshirt, "You really are so incredibly stupid." He lifted his head and perched on the edge of Harry's bed, his hair coming down around Harry's face like a curtain.

"Do you realize you could have anyone you wanted?" he asked in a hiss, his voice rough and low, revealing every ounce of his desperation. He pulled back and wiped his eyes, knowing that only Harry could bring him to such a breaking point.

Not caring that his voice was coming out in pants he hissed, "Do you even realize how beautiful you are? Or how good..." His throat clenched and his words trailed off and then he shouted, "You know what I am and what I've done and yet you... Stupid, stupid boy!" A tear ran down his face and he hurried to wipe it off, angry now that he was finally talking to Harry, finally telling him what he'd wanted to tell him for months. Then, with no one but Harry to witness it, something inside Severus broke, the thing he'd lived with for nearly twenty years leaving him, and for the first time, allowing him to hope.

"It's very likely I'll make you miserable," he said, his hand running over Harry's chest. "God knows I don't know how to make anyone happy. I've never done this before."

He clenched his fist and then released it, his hand coming up to grip Harry's nightshirt, as though he were awake for Severus to demand his attention.

"I don't know why you would want me, even with the bond in place... I have no idea why you would ever choose me." He looked around the Infirmary, the place looking different somehow, then wiped his face.

"You really are an idiot."

Leaning over, Severus straightened Harry's shirt and lingered to place a kiss upon his cold, pale lips.

"It may be too late, and you're going to be very angry with me. But if you'll allow it, I swear I'll try my hardest to be what you deserve."

Harry said nothing, but he didn't need to. Not yet.

Severus resigned himself to wait patiently and kissed his face again.

*

An hour later, Severus was startled from his thoughts by the sound of a deep inhale and then Harry shifting in the bed. He gripped his hand tighter, realizing it was very likely that Harry would pull away as soon as he was able.

Tilting his head to the side, Harry blinked away the sleep and then squinted into the darkness. Apprehensive now, Severus steeled himself for what was to come and took Harry's glasses off the side table, putting them on his face.

A moment passed and then Harry looked at him, his eyes lighting up for a moment before they diminished, as though Harry had forgotten their last encounter for a moment, then suddenly remembered.

"Get out," he said roughly, his voice weak and rough from sleep.

Severus grasped his hand tighter still and sat up straighter in his chair, resolved now to do the right thing.

"No."

Harry looked at him, then looked away before he scoffed.

"I don't want you here. Leave." He looked over and down to his hand. "And let go of my hand."

Torn between not wanting to give any ground and his desire to respect Harry's wishes, Severus rubbed his knuckles with his thumb before laying his hand down on the bed, only to cover it with his own.

"No," he said plainly, stiffening at the glare Harry sent him.

"Fine," he croaked. "I don't care what you do." He pulled his hand away from Severus' and turned away from him.

Severus had no experience in apologies, at least not with the words that accompany them. He had no doubt that given enough time he could make it up to Harry, but knew he'd never get the chance if he didn't say the right thing now.

He had no idea what to say, so he settled for the obvious.

"Harry, I'm sorry."

_Rage_

_Sadness_

Harry was still turned away from him, but Severus could see his face in the moonlight, how it twisted in despair as he repeated, "Y—you're sorry. What exactly are you sorry for? It's not your fault Voldemort decided to show up and..." He trailed off and looked at Severus, curious now. "What exactly did he do?"

"He tried to steal your soul, thus making himself immortal."

Harry paled further and turned away from Severus again. He shook his head and asked, "I'm guessing it didn't work?"

"No," Severus answered. "The bond—"

"I don't want to hear about the bond," he interrupted, his irritation apparent. "I don't want to hear anything from you," he said, as though his anger was only strengthening the longer he was awake. "Go away."

Severus stiffened but refused to back down. "Harry, I've been a fool—"

A hysterical laugh came from his throat but Severus thought it could have easily been a sob.

"What do you want, Severus? I'm tired," he said in a small voice. "I don't want to do this anymore." He looked over at Severus and said in a furious whisper, "Don't you understand? I can't do this anymore."

Severus closed his eyes and gathered all his strength to say what needed to be said.

"I know. I can't do this anymore, either." He paused and then entreated, his voice solemn and contrite, "Come home, Harry."

The scoff and scathing tirade he was expecting didn't come, and Severus watched as Harry looked at him amazed.

"What?"

"Come home. I realize now I've been a fool, that I should never have sent you away. The dungeons..." He stopped as his throat clenched and hesitated, turning his head away from Harry.

"Look at me," Harry commanded and Severus obeyed. "Why should I? After everything you did to me, why the hell should I go with you now?"

Severus was tempted to respond with 'I've no idea and it would probably end with disaster' but pushed it aside. Instead, he said, "Because I want you there. Because the dungeons are cold without you. Because I'm tired as well."

Harry's eyes softened for a moment before he turned away, his face resolved again. "I don't want to go with you. Do you think I would put myself through that again? After everything you did?"

Severus could hear the lie and knew that a part of Harry did want to come home with him, but was too hurt and too proud to do so. He redoubled his efforts.

"If you would allow it, I would make it up to you."

"How?" Harry said with a scoff. "I can't think of a thing you could do that could be enough."

"I know I've hurt you—"

"No," Harry said, forcing Severus to meet his eyes. "You don't."

Severus wanted to argue, to tell Harry that he knew everything he felt through the bond, that he knew the pain he'd caused.

Somehow, Harry must have guessed what he was thinking and he shook his head. "No, Severus. You have no idea what you did to me. You took something precious from me, and I don't think I could ever forgive you for that." He stopped and thought for a minute. "I'm not sure I want to forgive you."

Defeated, Severus felt as though all the breath left his body and his heart sank in his chest. If Harry had been willing to forgive him, he thought he had a chance. If he made a conscious effort to hate Severus...

"Don't," Harry said, interrupting his train of thought. "Don't do that. You deserve this. You know you do."

"What do you wish of me?" Severus asked, knowing he would do anything to make it up to Harry, yet growing frustrated despite himself. "I was wrong. I admit it..." He put his face in his hands, knowing he was mucking this up yet not knowing how to make it right. "I have no experience in matters of the heart, Harry; I've never done this before."

"I don't care."

"What do you wish of me?" he repeated, raising his voice. "Do you want me to beg? Do you wish me to debase myself, fall to my knees?" he asked, his frustration at himself and Harry getting the best of him. "Would that somehow make things better for you?"

"No," Harry answered, his voice cold. "If you wanted to make it better, you'd fall to your knees and beg me, and then I'd say no."

It took all his resolve to not lower his eyes, wanting nothing more than to turn back time to undo the damage he'd done. His past sins were terrible, but hearing Harry say such harsh words was the worst kind of pain.

"It's because I almost died, isn't it?" Harry asked in a whisper. "You feel guilty and now you want to do the right thing."

"No," Severus said, shaking his head.

"I can't live that way."

"Nor could I..."

Harry looked doubtful, but must have felt Severus' sincerity. "Why, then?"

"You need some declaration?"

"I want—" Harry said, his voice raised, before he closed his eyes and shuddered. "I don't know what I want. I just know I'm tired of all this."

"Yes." Severus knew exactly how Harry felt. "Harry..." he said, waiting for Harry to look at him. Green eyes shone in the faint light of the Infirmary, Harry waiting to hear what Severus had to say.

All words left him. Never had so much relied on some simple statement, some rhetorical declaration that he had no idea how to make. Pretty words were just that to him: words and nothing more. It was in his actions that he'd dedicated himself to Harry; in his protection, in the way he taught him, in the way he'd brought him into his home. Sitting there, their future hanging in the balance, Severus was at a loss for words and struggled for something of substance to say.

Nothing came to him, and he held Harry's hand again, communicating in the way he had earlier, the way he had woken Harry. The only way he knew how.

Kissing his hand lightly, he closed his eyes and allowed every feeling of regret, every ounce of devotion, the yearning and desire he felt and all the love he held for Harry to pour out of him, hoping Harry would understand.

A moment passed and then the hand in his own gripped his harder. He opened his eyes and looked up, meeting Harry's. There was a mist that could barely be seen behind Harry's glasses, and he still looked angry, but Severus knew he'd been heard.

Harry blinked, turned his head away and frowned, and Severus could feel the turmoil running through him. He shook his head and looked down toward their joined hands.

"I'm so angry with you," Harry whispered.

"I know," Severus responded, rubbing his knuckles with his hand.

"You shouldn't have done that," he said and Severus wanted to scoff at his understatement.

"No," he said softly. "I shouldn't have."

"You're going to make it up to me," he said. It was not a question.

"Yes," Severus answered, bringing his hand up to kiss. "Yes. Come home with me."

Harry looked at Severus, his eyes searching Severus' for some sense of truth. Anger and indignation flooded the bond and his face twisted one last time before his anger slowly receded and Harry relaxed against his pillows.

"Okay."

*

Harry wanted to be angry, he really did. It was a strange feeling, wanting to hate someone but being unable.

But seeing Severus, his face so open and expressive, broke whatever fragile anger he'd felt towards him. Feeling what Severus was feeling—stronger than he had ever felt before—renewed something in Harry that he hadn't been aware was exhausted.

And he really was so tired.

His fingers were being kissed individually and Harry shuddered at the feeling, a delightful wisp of happiness and astonishment running through him as he watched Severus in awe.

He wanted to say several things at that moment: that it felt odd yet wonderful to have his fingers kissed, that he loved Severus and felt as though a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, that he was so incredibly happy, so relieved that all of this was over with.

Instead, he said, "Can we go home now?"

Severus looked up from where he was nuzzling Harry's hand and gave a small smile, and Harry felt his insides twist.

"Yes," he said, standing up, then leaned down to put his hands under Harry's knees and back.

"Wait," Harry said and he could hardly help the way he straightened up as Severus attempted to lift him from the bed. "You didn't let me carry you when you were sick, I'm hardly going to let you carry me."

Severus frowned and said, "Don't be foolish. You're injured and require help."

"Then help me," he said, his voice insisting Severus listen to him. "Help me to your rooms." He felt a twinge of guilt from Severus and looked up at him, begging him to understand. "I'm tired."

His look softened and Severus laid Harry back on the bed, helping him to swing his legs over the side.

"_Our_ rooms."

A small smile escaped his face before he could help it, and Harry put a sore arm around Severus' shoulder and stood up.

A grunt and then Severus was catching him before his knees gave way, then holding him while he put weight on his legs again.

As quickly as he could—which was to say not quickly at all—Harry walked to the Floo, finally understanding why Severus had been so angry about being helped all that time.

"Did Poppy say what he did to me or—" he broke off as a flare of pain shot up his back. "Or how long it would take me to recover?"

Severus looked over at him, and Harry didn't need the bond to read his concern. He bit his lip and tried to keep moving, and Severus must have understood, the both of them finally reaching the mantel.

"Dumbledore believes the bond is the only thing that saved you. The two of us spending time in each other's company will help you." He grabbed a bit of Floo Powder and looked down at Harry. "And I don't plan on being away from you for the foreseeable future."

Harry shivered and smiled again, his eyes drifting over Severus' face and ending upon his lips.

"Severus Snape's rooms, Hogwarts!" Severus said, and they both went through the flames.

Unlike the last time they had left the Infirmary together, they ended up exiting the Floo gracefully, Harry hardly stumbling at all as Severus aided his travel.

Harry looked up at him, then around the room, and couldn't help the smile that graced his features.

The place looked exactly as he remembered it; it had never felt so good to be home.

"Welcome home, Harry," Severus said, and then placed a kiss on his cheek. Harry turned and tilted his head up, but Severus simply started to walk again, beginning the short journey into the bedroom.

The room was cold as he walked in, but Severus quickly lit the fire, then spelled the bed sheets back before laying Harry down. With a moan of pleasure, Harry allowed himself to sink back into the blankets, the beloved smell of Severus surrounding him as he allowed himself to relax.

He was tucked in and Severus was halfway to a chair in the corner before he knew what was happening.

"What are you doing over there?"

Severus looked up. "Allowing you to sleep."

Extending a trembling hand, Harry called Severus over to him, the slight tremors embarrassing him but also causing Severus to come all the quicker.

"You said you were going to make it up to me."

A solemn expression crossed Severus' face and he nodded, then said, "In any way I can."

Harry yawned and pulled back the sheets. "Then get in," he said, hating the way things between them seemed so fragile now; the way Severus seemed so skittish around him. He gave an exasperated huff and said solemnly, "We have a lot of time to make up for, and I don't want you away from me for longer than a trip to the loo."

Taking a moment, Severus examined his face and seemed to consider what he was saying before he nodded and tentatively took off his robes and began unbuttoning his waistcoat. Harry allowed himself to look his fill, regretting that his body was hardly able to do what the rest of him wanted.

Once he was down to his shirt, Severus looked up and asked Harry a silent question. He nodded and Severus undid the last of his buttons and climbed into bed.

His heart pounding in his chest, Harry counted the seconds it took Severus to cross the short distance between them and take Harry into his arms. He closed his eyes with a sigh as he felt strong arms come around him, pulling him closer, a hand running through his hair pulling his head down onto a firm chest.

His body began to unwind, muscles that had been clenched for months relaxing under Severus' touch. Harry sighed and put his nose into the space between Severus' neck and ear, the dark hair a curtain around his head as he shuddered and inhaled.

It smelled like home.

A kiss on his forehead, then his cheek and Harry was turned to his side, hands coming up to run through his hair and over his face, removing his glasses as he finally opened his eyes.

After months of waiting, Harry took one look at Severus, his expression so open and his emotions exposed, and closed his eyes and kissed him. He lifted a trembling hand to run through Severus' hair, resting his hand on the nape of his neck as he held Severus close, not wanting him to go away again.

The kiss was sweet and communicated everything that existed between them, and Harry never wanted it to end. His hand moved to caress Severus' cheek and he felt a wetness there, quickly running his thumb over it to wipe it away before he opened his eyes.

A smile given and another look exchanged, Harry then yawned, exhausted. Severus must have understood because he took him in his arms again and Harry allowed himself to relax into the embrace, feeling at long last that he was home.

Severus' sigh was the last thing he heard before he fell asleep and dreamt.

In his dreams he was warm. So very warm.


	32. Instructions for Dancing

Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling and I do not own these characters. Thankfully, there is smut in this chapter that's finally earned its M rating.

A/N: It brings me so much joy to show you this chapter. I first thought of this story in July of 2008 and pretty much hit the ground running. Through twenty-seven chapters and four interludes, I knew where I needed to get them—together. I first starting making notes on this chapter in February and every time the story got too angsty—hell, every time real life got too real—I'd make notes about things I'd wanted to write.

The notes grew into a chapter I'm very proud of and hope you'll enjoy.

Thanks to WhiteCotton for help straightening the pronouns and commas, wrangling the smut and removing all the American-isms. The help she's given me over the past year is nothing short of amazing, and to thank her the song that's mentioned in this chapter is her favorite.

Thank you all so much for sticking with this story. I'm going to be taking a short break as I finish my Snarry Holidays fic and dive deep into my Severus Big Bang story. This story will pick-up again at the end of December, but rest assured it will never, ever be abandoned. If anyone wants to reach me, you can always find me at SeverusSighs.

* * *

-

"The book of love is long and boring. No one can lift the damn thing. It's full of charts and facts and figures and instructions for dancing." -- Stephin Merritt

-

Severus could count his good days on one hand. The day he'd left home for Hogwarts had been good, even if school had become a battleground soon thereafter. There was the day he'd left Hogwarts, but what happened soon after somewhat negated that. Then there was the day he received his potions mastery and the day he knew he had earned Dumbledore's respect.

But never before did he have days like these. No, there was nothing to compare them to; not in his wildest dreams had he thought he could be so happy, that real life could be so like heaven.

*

Severus awoke first. Harry was still lying on top of him, his breathing even and regular, so he just lay there thinking about what would come next. Harry would need to rest and recover, and time with Severus would be the only thing that would procure that.

He smiled to himself and thought of spending time with Harry. Alone with Harry, just the two of them.

Oh, God, it would be just the two of them...

The last traces of sleep left him as he realized what was coming. As much as he had enjoyed talking with Harry in the past, things were different now, and he didn't dare to hope they would slide into this relationship gracefully. It would be awkward and he'd probably end up ruining something by the end of breakfast.

Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to relax and began to run a hand through Harry's hair.

*

Harry woke to the feeling of a hand stroking his hair. As he tried to decide whether to cast off his sleepiness or burrow further into the warmth that surrounded him, he picked up a tentative... Well, he wouldn't exactly call it fear, more like an apprehension, and he knew something was bothering Severus. He just didn't understand what it was.

He stopped himself from opening his eyes and tried to think of how to go about addressing the problem, or if he should even try. Was it the coward's way out to hope whatever it was went away in the time it took for him open his eyes?

A gentle kiss was placed on his forehead and he couldn't stop his smile. Burrowing into Severus embrace, he decided to let whatever would come, come.

But first he was going to enjoy the hand running through his hair just a bit more.

"Good morning," he said with a yawn, turning his face to kiss Severus' hand as it passed by one last time.

A few long seconds passed before Severus replied, "Good morning."

Oh, Harry thought as he took in Severus' state of undress and his own infirmary pajamas. He admitted to himself that he hadn't thought of this...the awkwardness that might come after not speaking to each other for two months only to be thrown into a very close environment.

He wondered if Severus had realized this would happen.

He struggled with what to say, now that what needed to be said had been said. He'd already said 'good morning' but nothing else was coming. Oh God, the silence was stretching and threatening to strangle Harry with its awkwardness! He turned so he could look Severus in the eyes, try to find some strength there, but Severus turned his head and the oddness only grew.

Suddenly, Severus shifted and swung his legs to get out of bed. "I should inform Dumbledore of your whereabouts and get you some breakfast." He paused and cast _Tempus_. "Or lunch, as it were."

Harry nodded from his pillows and refrained from telling Severus to get back into bed. He desperately needed a moment to think and a Floo call would be just enough time.

"How are you feeling?" he asked Harry, turning to address him.

Harry met his eyes and knew Severus was feeling the exact same way. He'd had his share of awkward situations before, but he'd never been able to voice his fears. Something told him he should do so now, but he stopped himself.

What they had at the moment was so new, so tentative. He didn't want to risk breaking it.

Finally, he settled for answering Severus' question. "Better than last night, that's for sure. And you?"

Severus scoffed and put on his shirt and trousers and began doing up the buttons. "I'm not the one who was attacked, Harry." He closed his eyes for a moment and his fingers stilled, and Harry could almost see Severus mentally chastise himself.

"I'm fine and fairly well-rested."

Harry nodded, but Severus didn't see it. "How long did we sleep?"

"Long enough," was his only answer before he added, "I'm not accustomed to sharing a bed with anyone. And with your injured state..."

Curious now, Harry gave a pointed look to the back of his head, then Severus continued, "As odd as it might seem, I was worried I would crush you."

His eyes went wide and then Harry had to stifle a laugh and continued stifling it until it came bursting out of him, much to Severus' chagrin.

"Hmph," he grunted and stood up.

Grateful for the reprieve, Harry watched as the last of Severus' pale skin was covered. It was his choice in footwear, however, that had him curious.

He'd put on his boots and not his slippers.

A sudden fear sprang to life within him and he couldn't help ask, "You're coming back, aren't you?"

He felt foolish the instant he'd uttered it. Of course Severus was coming back. This was his bed, his rooms after all. But the awkwardness between them was enough to drown a man and Severus might not want to deal with him just now.

A long-fingered hand came up to grip his face and Harry hadn't even realized he'd turned away.

Dark eyes met green and Harry realized his fears were just as stupid as he'd thought.

"I'm only going to the sitting room to use the Floo. I'll be right back." A gentle kiss was placed on his lips and he couldn't help but smile into it.

Shifting back onto his pillows, Harry watched as the door closed, then began to think on what he needed to say and what Severus needed to hear.

*

Five minutes later, Severus stood at the door to his bedroom feeling like an absolute fool.

His conversation with Dumbledore had been short enough. He'd endured the knowing smile, the thinly veiled 'I knew you'd see the light at the end, my boy' and the assurance that he'd inform Lupin and Harry's other friends that he was safe and recovering.

But now he stood like an idiot at the door to his own bedroom, petrified at the thought of entering.

At his age he should have been better prepared for this. Of course things were going to be odd this morning with Harry. They hadn't really spoken in two months—Merlin, was it November already?—and even when they had, it hadn't been like this.

No, they'd been...friends of a sort. And they'd gone from friends to estranged to bonded in a matter of days with no room to speak in between. Now, here they were, months later and somehow Severus had expected them to just fall into bed together?

He really was an idiot.

Lifting a hand to massage his temples, he admitted to himself it was probably because he'd never done this before. He'd never been in love and never had anything resembling a relationship with any man. It was no wonder he had no idea what to do.

That would've been fine, but he wasn't the only person who would be affected by his ignorance—Harry would be as well.

There was nothing for it. He'd just have to sit Harry down and talk with him about it. Perhaps if they addressed it, it would simply leave or...they could do...something...

Damn!

Well, he thought to himself, nothing was going to be accomplished while standing outside his door. He steeled himself for the most awkward conversation of his life and walked into the room.

Harry was looking up at the ceiling, then shifted to watch him as he closed the door, extending a hand across the sheets as he neared the bed.

This part, at least, he could do. No matter how odd it might be at the moment, he had no desire to resist holding Harry in his arms. Not after all that time apart.

Removing his shoes, then his trousers and shirt, he quickly climbed back into bed and embraced him, feeling that this was something they did well; this was something they could build upon.

"Severus," Harry started, breaking the long silence.

"Yes?" he said, adjusting himself so that Harry's head was on his shoulder.

"Is it just me or are things...weird right now?"

He quickly turned an odd gasp into a cough, then a laugh.

"What?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Oh, nothing, just..." he trailed off and turned his body so he could kiss Harry on his mouth. "Trust a Gryffindor to go charging where angels fear to tread."

"Ha. Well, I just... Today seems important, is all. I just want to get this right, from the beginning. Or you know—"

"Yes," he said, interrupting. "I know. And yes, it is a bit odd this morning. But I suppose it would be after everything." Taking a deep breath, Severus steeled himself to take responsibility for his actions. "Had I not behaved like an arse we would have had this talk the morning after our bonding, not two months later with...so much more between us."

Severus could almost feel Harry grimace against his chest as he said, "Yeah, let's not talk about how much of an arse you were."

Something in the way he said that told Severus this wouldn't be the last time it would be addressed. He knew better than to expect Harry to forgive him so quickly, but he hated to think this would come between them...and at such an important moment.

"Because you were."

A scoff and Severus' fears were somewhat quelled. If Harry could make a joke about it—even at Severus' expense—then things couldn't be so dark. "Thank you."

"You really were."

Glaring a bit, Severus responded, "Yes, I know."

But Harry just grinned and held out two fingers about a foot apart. "A huge one."

Sighing, Severus said, exasperated, "Could we get back to the subject at hand please?"

"Yeah. I think I know what we should do...about us."

"Oh?"

Harry looked at him thoughtfully and all traces of a smile left his face. Slowly, he asked, "If anyone were to ask you, 'do you know Harry Potter?' what would you say?"

Stunned, Severus was taken aback by the question but forced himself to think about it. Yes, he knew Harry. He knew Harry in a way that no one else had ever known him, in a way no one else ever would. He knew everything Harry was and he loved every inch of him. The details however...

"Exactly," Harry said to whatever nonverbal answer he'd picked up on. "If anyone were to ask me the same, I'd say yes. I _know_ you. But...at the same time..."

"There are so many things we don't know about each other," he continued for him.

"Yeah. Things we couldn't have known during the summer, things that wouldn't have been—"

"Appropriate," Severus said, interrupting. He'd had the same thoughts during the summer as well.

"Yeah, that. And now...well, I want to know those things about you. Like...what's your favorite color? Cause it can't be black. Or what do you do for Christmas, seeing that it's coming up soon? And do you have any family left and where did you take your potions mastery?"

His lips betrayed him and he couldn't help the half-smile he gave at hearing Harry's honest inquiries. Never before had anyone wanted to know such irrelevant details of his life...and never had he wanted to know the same in return.

Smiling, Harry tugged at the end of Severus' hair and said, "Can we do that now? Please? Can we just...ignore everyone and everything for once and just talk to each other? I know when I was here in the summer there were so many things I didn't understand and I do now. Can we just...stay in bed and take off our clothes and not get out until someone beats down the door?"

The half-smile turned into a full grin as he dipped his head lower and sealed his lips over Harry's, the kiss lasting longer this time, the soft sigh coming from Harry causing his cock to stir.

A groan from underneath and Severus climbed fully on top of him, his erection rubbing against Harry's thigh before he realized his own body was responding while Harry's couldn't. Not while he was still recovering.

Slowly, he removed himself and took Harry back into his arms, forcing his body to calm.

"Why'd you do that?" Harry said, breathless. "You didn't have to do that."

"You aren't well. There will be time enough for it later."

A kiss was placed on his neck and then a bite. He groaned and forced himself not to grab Harry's head and keep it there.

"I feel better now."

"Oh?" he said, allowing his hand to travel down to loosely grab hold of Harry's flaccid cock, his body's reminder that it wasn't up for anything strenuous yet.

"Ugh," Harry grunted and put an arm over his face. "Stupid erections leaving me when I need them most."

Severus laughed and pulled him closer. "You're recovering. It's to be expected. Now, let me call a house-elf for some food and I'll return."

"Oh, not the shirt again!" he called out as Severus dressed quickly, only to call the house-elf into his bedroom. When the thing had left, Harry grunted, "You know, it's okay if the house-elves see you naked."

Severus gave him a scandalized look.

"What? You'd be under the sheets! Plus, it's not like they'd tell anyone."

"Dear Merlin, please stop talking."

"Why? Plus, who else could I show you off to?"

For want of a better method, Severus kissed Harry to shut him up, and continued shutting him up until lunch arrived.

*

"This is my favorite button," Harry said, fingering the second button of Severus' white shirt with a certain amount of awe.

Severus could hardly believe Harry could hold it in such high regard and tried to maneuver the plate of just-delivered sandwiches before Harry could upend it in his enthusiasm to get his shirt off.

"It's a button, Harry; you can't possibly have a favorite."

"Oh yes, I can," Harry said in voice so breathless Severus began to grow worried for his health. Slowly, Harry lowered his head to Severus' neck and began to lick the pale flesh that was revealed. Severus moaned and felt himself harden and cupped Harry's head with his hand.

"See, the first button doesn't really show much. It's up way too high," he said as his tongue began to trace his clavicle. "This second button, though, is inspired. It's really in the most perfect place." He kissed his neck again and Severus held him up to support his body as he began to feel Harry tiring himself out.

"I'm glad it pleases you so," he said, his voice hoarse now with desire. Really, it was nearly sad how quickly Harry could excite him. "Now's not the time for this though."

"Oh yes, it is," he said, undoing another button. "Oh."

His cock throbbing in his trousers, Severus held him tighter as he asked, "What?"

"I take it back. _This_ is my favorite button."

*

The excitement surrounding the removal of Severus' shirt gone, they sat up in bed and began to eat their lunch, Severus frowning a bit at seeing Harry remove half the contents of his sandwich before eating it.

"Your eating habits are atrocious."

Wiping his fingers on a napkin, Harry frowned back and said, "I don't like tomatoes. Or onions."

"They're good for you. No wonder you're so short, you're most likely suffering from malnutrition."

A sharp stab of pain filtered through the bond before it faded quickly. Harry took a bite of his sandwich and said nothing.

"I apologize. That was uncalled for."

"I'm not _that_ short."

"No, you're not, actually." And he wasn't, Severus thought. It was only because he was so tall that Harry seemed smaller. Or perhaps it was because his father had been very tall.

He groaned and tossed his sandwich back onto his plate. He'd had no plans to think of any Potter other than Harry today.

Casting off his own burdens, he turned to look at Harry, propped up on his pillows and looking at his sandwich like it had somehow betrayed him.

"You've never talked about them. Your family."

Harry shrugged and said, "Why would I want to? It's not important."

Severus doubted that. "What they did to you still affects you today. You should feel free to talk about it if you'd like."

"Well, I wouldn't like," Harry said in a tone that said the matter was closed when Severus knew it wasn't.

He sighed to himself and thought he truly had no idea what he was doing or how to go about actually talking to anyone. This is probably something he should have learned in his youth, but never did. His own shortcomings were now hurting Harry and that was something Severus just couldn't stand for.

Suddenly, it occurred to him that perhaps there was another way of getting through.

"My father..." he started, then cleared his throat. "Was not a very nice man." He watched as Harry turned his head, his eyes focused on him and Severus knew he had his complete attention. "He wasn't a bad man, but...he wasn't a very good man either. I do know he loved me, but I don't think he liked me very much. I think he knew I was gay before I did."

A hand brushed his and Severus had to stop himself from pulling away as he would have in the past.

"It was...odd growing up around children who were cherished at home when I was not. Even stranger when I went to Hogwarts and left Yorkshire. A great deal of Slytherins are pure-bloods and...well, you know how they treat their children."

"Yeah," Harry said sadly.

"The point is, these things stay with us whether we realize it or not. We don't have to discuss it now, but we can and we should...whenever you'd like."

Harry looked thoughtfully at him for a moment, then took another bite of his sandwich. Then, without any warning, he asked, "Was my father tall?"

Severus huffed out a breath of air at the non sequitur, then thought back to his previous ruminations.

"Yes, he was."

"Was my mother tall, then? Because I have a few pictures of them and they're pretty close in height."

"She was, yes."

"Oh," Harry said, then took another bite, chewing thoughtfully before swallowing. "I suppose that makes me a bit angry. To know... I don't know, that they took that from me. Does that make sense?"

Severus nodded and said, "Yes. It makes perfect sense."

Suddenly, Harry dropped his sandwich and turned to look at Severus.

"I'm sorry."

An eyebrow lifted itself almost of its own volition. "Whatever for?"

"We've never really talked about him...them. I don't imagine this is what we should be talking about in bed."

With a scoff, Severus leaned himself over Harry and kissed him softly, gently. "Stupid boy," he said, his voice steeped in affection. "You may ask me anything."

Harry smirked and said, "Well, I know that...I mean, I guessed that. But...you hated him. And I know better than to bring her up and... Well, I didn't mean to bring them up now, is what I mean."

Severus really wished this conversation could have waited for a time when their feet were planted firmly on the ground, when things weren't still so new and tentative with them, but realized this was something that needed to be addressed now before things went any further.

"Your father was a terrible boy. He was cruel and a bully and I hated him." Severus felt Harry stiffen beside him, but as he said nothing, he continued, "He was a terrible boy... However, as a man he died fighting to protect you and your mother. No matter how much I might still dislike him, I cannot discount that."

A sigh and then lips were pressed to his and an arm came around to wrap around his shoulder.

"Thank you," Harry said softly.

"For what?"

Harry looked up and smiled so beautifully Severus' breath was taken away.

"For meeting me halfway."

"Mmm," Severus hummed as Harry kissed him again, the softest sort of happiness he'd ever felt washing over him. He had no idea what to do with it, and Harry didn't make it any easier by smiling at him like that.

He cleared his throat and looked away and Harry allowed it, seeming to understand his floundering.

"Of course," Severus said, for want of anything else, "it's not such a terrible thing that you're shorter than me."

Harry smiled at his lighter tone. "Oh?"

"Yes. You're bound to fly better, being somewhat smaller."

Harry laughed, then rescued Severus before he could make a fool out of himself.

"Come here," he said, then tried to position Severus so their feet were lined up. "Here's why I don't mind being shorter than you."

Never before had he felt so clumsy, allowing Harry to move him as he saw fit. "What exactly am I supposed to notice?"

He looked at Harry, their bodies unevenly matched and his head so much higher that his chin fit...

Oh.

"We fit," Harry said, nuzzling Severus' neck from the little nook he'd already made his home. Severus wrapped his arms around Harry and rested his chin on his head, silently thanking whatever god was listening for optimists.

*

"What _is_ your favorite color?" Harry asked some time later, only to feel Severus pull away a bit in the next moment.

"As much as you might not believe it, it is black...and green."

Harry bit his lip and stifled a laugh at the guilt Severus had no hope of hiding from him, both of them lying on their backs, shoulder to shoulder, talking about nothing.

Severus shifted and softly said, "Shut up."

Harry couldn't help his amusement and a loud guffaw broke out of his throat. "I'm sorry...it's just..."

"Don't say it, Potter!"

"You're a terrible liar."

Severus turned his head so Harry could see him glare out of the corner of his eyes. He amended, "Okay, not a terrible liar in general. But to me...you're hopeless, you know?"

"Hmph," Severus grunted and laid his head back down.

"Hey, don't feel bad," he said, his tone light as he enjoyed poking at Severus for what felt like the first time. "Some people are just so naturally open and honest—ow!"

"Brat," Severus snapped after elbowing Harry in the arm. He rubbed it, then cuffed Severus back, giving as good as he got. The laughter dying down, they were silent for a moment before Harry thought of something.

"Why didn't the bond react when you hit me...or when I hit you?"

He felt Severus shrug against him. "Perhaps it reads intent? Really, I have no idea, though I am glad it won't read some things as violence," he said, before leaning over and biting Harry's ear.

Harry shivered and again lamented that his body was rebelling against him, settling for leaning over Severus, laying his head on his shoulder, fingers dancing across his chest.

"So what is your favorite color?"

Severus sighed and raised a hand to run through Harry's hair. He leaned into the touch and wondered why Severus enjoyed petting him so much.

"Come on," he insisted, poking a finger into Severus' stomach.

"Purple."

Harry lifted his head and looked at him, amazed.

"Purple?"

"_Dark_ purple," Severus said through his teeth, and Harry decided he'd poked enough.

"Dark purple can be nice." Harry picked his head up and looked around the room, still shrouded in shadow by the fire. "I don't see any though."

Another sigh and Severus admitted, "I have a blanket, but I keep it in the closet."

Harry frowned and said, "You should take it out." His fingers went back to slowly tracing Severus' slender chest before he added, "Mine's blue."

"Your blanket?"

"Color."

"Oh. Yes, blue's nice too."

They were silent for a moment, then Harry pitched his voice high and started crooning, "Purple rain, purp—" before a pillow was dumped on his face.

*

They'd taken a nap sometime right after dinner. Harry needed the sleep and Severus was glad to give it to him. He was surprised to discover that he'd needed it as well. He tried to remember the last time he'd slept so peacefully—even with the unfamiliar sensation of another body next to him—and couldn't.

They'd woken around the same time, Severus not even bothering to cast _Tempus_. They were on their own time, for now.

Though he'd slept well—if a bit oddly since he was still a bit frightened he might hurt Harry—he was woken by an odd feeling.

It seemed Harry had woken before him. He was lying on his side, his hair mussed from sleep, glasses on the side table, dark purple blanket barely covering his chest. Severus pulled it up to cover him from the chill of the dungeons when he realized what had woken him.

Harry was staring at him; a look of awe that Severus had never witnessed before—on Harry's face or anyone else's.

The awkwardness that had been thick between them in the morning had dissipated sometime during the day, and Severus had no problem meeting his eyes, no problem being looked at.

But the feeling coming from Harry...

It was like pure euphoria and something Severus had never known. He hardly had any idea how to interpret it or what to do in the face of it. Harry's eyes were shining and looking at him as though he was the most precious thing in the world.

"Severus," he whispered, though there was no one else in the room. "Severus..."

Sensing that Harry needed time to gather his thoughts and sort through his emotions, he stayed quiet and allowed him to grab his arm so tightly it would likely leave a mark.

"It's like..." Harry started, but then drifted off, as if he were searching for the right words. He clenched his jaw and grasped Severus' arm tighter and continued, "It's like the last two months were just a dream and...now that I'm awake they're fading away. I remember what happened, but...it's like when you wake up from a nightmare and barely remember what scared you so badly."

Severus kept his eyes focused on Harry, having no desire to look away.

"Like some dream..." Harry said, then seemed to relax, while Severus nodded and allowed himself to be manhandled, Harry grabbing him and bringing Severus' head to his chest for a change. Severus adjusted his body and returned the embrace, savoring the feel of a strong chest under his head. No wonder Harry liked it so much.

"Oh, God," Harry whispered softly against Severus' ear. "I'm so happy, so relieved. I'm just so...fucking happy. After everything..." Severus felt a dampness fall on his cheek, but said nothing, just held Harry as emotions continued to overwhelm him.

"I didn't think I could ever be this happy. It's like...my heart has never been this open."

Severus closed his eyes and felt his heart soar.

*

The rest of the early morning was spent holding each other. The last time Severus had been held in a way that even compared to this had been by his mother when he was a child. Though he had been tempted many times to pull away, he hadn't.

As though Harry had sensed his awkwardness, his preoccupation with appearing so vulnerable, he would hold him closer in the moments he'd been tempted to return to his side of the bed. Severus would close his eyes and run his fingers over Harry's side and allow himself to simply relax and feel cared for and loved in a way he'd never been before.

Then in the next moment, he felt ridiculous; a grown man being held by someone half his age, someone who was injured, someone whom he had wronged and who was in far more need of holding.

And then Harry would run his hands through his hair and kiss whatever part of Severus' face was nearest until he relaxed again.

Sometime—Severus had no idea when—Harry had run his tongue over Severus' ear to keep him from fidgeting and said, "It's okay, you know? I like taking care of you, too."

The only sound that was heard for hours was Severus' long shudder and Harry's happy sigh.

*

It was morning—or at least Harry thought it was morning—when a thought suddenly occurred to him. They were laying side-by-side again, their shoulders touching, just relaxing in the comfortable silence, when Severus shifted and turned to him.

"What?"

Frowning, Harry considered how to ask this question.

"What exactly do two men do together?"

A sputtering and then Severus sat up and looked at Harry incredulously.

With a roll of his eyes, Harry responded to Severus' silent mocking with, "Not like that. I mean, what do they _do together_?"

"Oh," Severus said, in a dry tone. "I understand you perfectly now."

"Shut up. I mean, whenever I imagine a couple, I think of a man being dragged out by some woman to do basically whatever she wants to do. When you think about it, a lot of things couples do are for the woman." Harry lifted a hand and began to use his fingers to tick off his list. "Buying...things, going out to dinner or...shows or something."

"Flowers and chocolates," Severus said, laying his head back down on his pillow.

"Dancing," Harry said, his tension seeping into his tone.

"Dancing?"

"Yeah, at least that's the impression that I get."

Turning his head on the pillow, Severus pulled Harry into his arms and started running his hand through his hair.

"Do you have any desire to go dancing?"

Nervous now, Harry said slowly, "No...do you?"

Severus lifted himself up so that he could look at Harry's face. "No. I've never danced in my life and I have no desire to start now."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank God!"

"Were you actually worried?"

"I hate dancing! I only had to do it that one time, but that was enough."

Severus chuckled and went back to lying down beside him.

"I don't imagine there will be an abundance of flowers and chocolate between us," he said, his tone trying and failing to remain lighthearted. Harry heard the tentative fear there anyway.

"Good," he said, making sure he matched Severus' tone. "I wouldn't know what to do with them anyway."

*

They'd taken a nap in the late afternoon again, only this time Severus wasn't woken by a sense of euphoria; he was awoken by a hand holding his arm in a tight grip and hot breath seething into his ear.

Harry was angry, and as soon as Severus had shaken the sleep off himself, he knew why.

It was time to answer for what he had done.

"I'm so angry with you," Harry said in a violent hiss.

"I know," Severus said, with no desire to defend himself.

"I'm _still_ so angry with you."

"I know, Harry. It's alright."

"Don't tell me it's alright!"

Severus stayed silent, knowing it wasn't for him to dictate Harry's emotions. His approval was meaningless in the face of what he'd done.

His face twisted in anger, Harry hissed out, "Promise me you won't ever do that again."

Slowly, Severus slid his arms around Harry's waist, then pulled him closer.

"Severus...I want you to swear you'll never push me away for my own good ever again."

Severus had thought this would be a difficult promise to make, if not an impossible one. The war loomed on the horizon, the end approaching. He knew what was coming, what could happen and what he would need to do if Harry required it.

If destiny deigned he make the ultimate sacrifice so be it, but in that moment, Severus realized he could no longer live without Harry. Not after finally knowing what it was like to be with him, to be loved by him.

This was one thing he could swear, with no regrets.

"I won't. I swear it."

Harry sighed but his grip did not relinquish. If anything, it tightened. Harsh pants were sounding in Severus' ear and he could feel hot tears fall onto his shoulder.

"I don't want romance and I don't want hearts and flowers. I promise, I don't. I just—can you say it? Just one time, can you say it? Please. And I'll never ask again."

Severus didn't need to ask what Harry wanted to hear and he was hardly surprised to be reminded he'd never said it until now.

He hadn't uttered these words to a living being in over thirty years, yet he felt as though they'd been on the tip of his tongue for months.

He kissed Harry's cheek and then placed his lips right above his ear and said in a voice barely above a whisper, "I love you."

Harry exhaled, and Severus felt the heavy burden of loneliness dissipate, as though Harry had been with him always.

*** **

It felt odd, sleeping next to another person when he'd slept alone all his life. He enjoyed the weight that was half-way on top of him, the feel of flesh on flesh, but that didn't change the fact that it was a new sensation.

He looked up, but the fire had died down and it was too dark to see anything. He settled for hearing the beloved sound of breathing next to him and curled around the other figure closer.

Suddenly, a deep inhale and he knew he'd woken him.

A kiss on his cheek and a sleepily muttered, "I'll be right back." Sounds of the toilet being used and then the sink and he was given a moment to himself in bed.

The sheets grew cooler and he suddenly found it far too large for his liking.

When the sheets were pulled up and a warm body pressed up close to him, he sighed and rejoiced in the knowledge that he'd never sleep alone again.

*

"Okay, who's your favorite Beatle?"

Severus snorted into his breakfast tea, though he was fairly sure no one else in Britain was having breakfast at three in the afternoon. Harry had been asking questions for hours, and they seemed to be growing more ridiculous by the moment.

"Don't scoff at me; this is a very important question."

"How do you even know about the Beatles?

"How do _you_?" Harry countered and ate a bite of his toast.

"Well, they'd broken up by the time I could appreciate them, but I did grow up listening to the Beatles, along with other Muggle music."

"Oh," Harry said and seemed to ponder that for a moment. "So which one was your favorite?"

Severus took another sip, then responded, "George."

Harry's grin was instantaneous. "George, huh?" he said as he tugged on the ends of Severus' hair.

"Hmph. He was the quiet artist. More substance than style."

"Yeah, it figures you would like George."

Nodding, Severus countered with, "And you? Who's your favorite?"

"I like John."

Scoffing, Severus looked away and said, "It would figure."

"Huh? Why's that?"

"John was very brave: his style, his music, his personal life. He suits you quite well."

"I think I hear an insult."

"I'm just glad you didn't say Ringo."

"No one likes Ringo," Harry said sadly. "Poor Ringo."

*

After breakfast, they dozed, Harry feeling much better than he had the previous day. The softness of the bed and the firmness of Severus' chest made the perfect combination and he flitted in and out of sleep for over an hour. Finally, he woke at the feel of a hand gently stroking his hair.

Again.

Not that he didn't enjoy it. He pushed his head into it a bit, then burrowed into Severus' neck, his hair making a curtain Harry liked to hide in.

A deep rumble caused his pillow to move and Harry looked up.

"I'm not a cat, you know?"

"Oh?" Severus said, putting his hand down. "Would you like me to stop?"

Harry sighed and rested his head against Severus' chest again.

"No."

*

They'd been kissing for nearly forty minutes by Severus' estimation.

With Harry's body still recovering, it was really all they could do, not that Severus was complaining. No, he was a patient man and had no problem abstaining; especially when abstaining meant he could hold Harry all he liked, kiss him and enjoy what he'd been denying for months.

No, that wasn't the issue, not at all.

The issue was that it was almost as though he was reliving a part of his youth he had previously missed out on. He'd been a pariah at Hogwarts, his only tryst revolving around sex more than anything else, so this was completely new to him. In all his encounters with men in adulthood, kissing was something to be avoided or rushed through to get to the sex.

There'd never been a time in his life when kissing was the main event. It had always seemed like a silly thing.

Yet laying with Harry, whom he'd wanted for so long—even before he knew it was _him_ he'd wanted—Severus felt his heart swell and his breath taken away at how much of himself he could put into a kiss. Slowly, he would push Harry back into his pillow and thrust his own tongue into his mouth, holding his head as he kissed the past away.

Only to have Harry roll him over a few minutes later to do the same.

It was odd, and it made him feel like a teenager and a bit foolish at the same time.

But it also made him feel as though something that had been missing was being filled until, finally, he shut his mind down and just enjoyed Harry's lips on his own.

*

They had lunch a little while later, Harry smiling goofily after their snogging session, his lips feeling raw and used and wonderful. Severus picked up a sandwich, but kissed Harry again before he took a bite.

Hardly able to wipe the silly grin from his face, Harry took a bite of his own, then leaned over to kiss him again before Severus moved to avoid him.

"Are you eating tuna fish?"

Harry looked down at his sandwich, examined its contents again and nodded. "Why?"

"You have tuna fish breath. Brush your teeth when you're done with that, please," Severus said with a sniff.

Harry supposed he had the right to feel insulted, but couldn't help but laugh.

"Who would have thought Severus Snape was a complete priss?"

"I am not. I simply don't want to taste canned fish when I kiss you."

"Right," Harry said with a smile and a nod. "Come here, then," he said, then launched himself onto Severus.

"No, no!" Severus exclaimed as Harry draped himself over his body and proceeded to kiss him everywhere he could.

"Come on, Severus, no one likes a priss!"

"Harry, get off..." he began to say then started laughing and kissing Harry back, so much so that Harry was amazed at the sound.

"You're ridiculous, Mr. Potter," he said from under Harry, then kissed him again. "Merlin, will you please brush your teeth?"

*

A few hours later, Harry was walking around the room. He hadn't wanted to get out of bed—why would he if Severus was there, naked?—but Severus had insisted that he test how he was recovering. Fairly well, if how he felt entered into it. He walked across the room several times, without support, before he felt tired and Severus helped him back to bed.

He was tempted to shake him off and insist he was feeling fine, but again, why would he when there was a naked Severus pressed up behind him?

"I think we should never put on clothes again."

Severus scoffed and played with Harry's hair. "I think the rest of the school might have a hard time accepting that."

"I don't know," he said, shifting so he could reach down and take Severus' cock in his hand. It wasn't hard but it grew slightly as he began to fondle it, getting accustomed to the feel of it more than having a goal.

A soft groan and then Severus batted his hand away. "Stop that. You're not well yet."

"I'm well enough for this," he said, then scooted down on the bed before taking a long whiff and an experimental lick of the head of Severus' cock.

It seemed as though Severus couldn't help his moan, the sound practically torn from him as Harry enthusiastically began to alternate between licking up and down his shaft and sucking on the head.

"Harry...ugh...I...fuck!...I don't want you to put any...Merlin, keep doing that!"

Harry happily licked the underside of his cock, pleased that he was doing so well on his first try and reached down to cup Severus' balls. He lightly licked the tight, silky skin before putting pressure on it with his tongue, smiling around it as he heard Severus groan and thrust up slightly into his mouth.

"Harry, you should stop—I—you're still recover—"

Harry redoubled his efforts, feeling a bit lightheaded, but determined for them both to enjoy this first time. He could feel Severus' body trying not to thrust up, so he tried even harder to take more of the length in his mouth.

"Harry—" Severus groaned and Harry began to rub his perineum, doing exactly as Severus had done to him months ago. Slyly, he moved a finger down until it was on Severus' opening, rubbing it at first, then slowly pushing inside.

"Fuck!" Severus cried out and then came into Harry's mouth, saliva and come leaking out as he tried unsuccessfully to swallow.

Severus lay on his back panting, and Harry allowed himself to look up at him, at how undone he was and how beautiful he looked after sex. He looked both sated and bothered at the same time.

"Stupid boy. Come here," he said roughly and Harry obeyed, stumbling a bit after that exertion.

"What on earth compelled you to do that?" Severus said, taking one look at Harry's face and kissing him, his lips coming out to lick around Harry's.

"Mmm," Harry responded before he was laid down onto Severus' chest. "Just felt like the thing to do at the time." He looked up at Severus' pleased yet worried expression and asked, "Did you like it?"

Scoffing, Severus held him closer and said, "I would think that was obvious. I was only worried for you."

"I'm fine," he said with a yawn. "And I liked it too."

Harry felt something unwind within Severus and his body relax.

A moment passed before Harry asked quietly, "You were still worried about that?"

Severus' hand paused for a second before it continued. "I have no idea what you mean."

Harry looked up, shocked, and exclaimed, "You _were_ still worried about it. You idiot, I told you I wanted you."

"Yes, but—"

"Shut up. You need to learn to trust me more. I do know my own mind, you know."

"Oh? And do you know now, what you were unsure of then?"

Harry knew what Severus was asking, but he didn't really have an answer. He knew it was an important question, a thing that defined a person and something important to Severus; but he also realized he might never know the answer and quickly found he didn't care.

"I want you, I'm attracted to you. I love the way your body feels, the way your cock smells and tastes. I liked it when you fucked me and I _know_ I'll like fucking you. Can't that be enough?"

Severus breathed a long-suffering sigh and seemed to relax. "I expect you'll figure it out one day, but for now...yes, it's enough."

Harry smiled and lay back down again.

*

"What's your favorite song?

Severus shifted on the bed and considered his record player in the closet, the one that worked on a crank so it would function within Hogwarts' wards.

He got out of his bed and quickly retrieved the thing and put on the LP in record time, turning it on and getting back under the covers with Harry.

"Your feet are cold," Harry complained, but still covered them with his own.

"Shh," Severus said, then lay down on his pillow, pulling Harry up next to him as one lonely violin began to play.

"Is this—?"

"Shh!" Severus chided, allowing the music to fill up the room. "This is Bruch's Violin Concerto number one, second movement, played by Jascha Heiffetz."

Harry ran his fingers over his chest and said, "Oh."

"Just listen."

They laid back and listened as the violin played its familiar, powerful melody, its beauty stirring Severus more now than it ever had before. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to concentrate on the orchestra playing softly in the background, supporting the violin's melody and making the air come to life.

"I can't tell if I should be happy or sad," Harry said, sounding somewhat lost.

Severus took pity on him and held him tighter. "That's alright," he said and kissed him as the violin's vibrato pulled a deep sigh from him. He'd loved this piece for years, and it had always amplified whatever he was feeling at the time—the best music always did that. That he was able to share something he loved with Harry only made it sweeter.

The violin played its beautiful high notes and the melody ended. As though it had been a siren's song, Severus shifted and Harry leaned up to look at him as soon as silence pervaded.

"Did you like it?" Severus asked.

Harry nodded, moved. "Yeah, I really did."

"I'm glad. That's my most favorite piece of music." They sat in the silence for another moment, the echo of the fading violin still in the room. Finally, Severus asked, "What's your favorite song?"

"I don't think I have one," Harry said, uncharacteristically sad. "Can I borrow yours?"

Smiling, Severus picked up his wand and replayed the track. "Yes," he said, content. "You can borrow anything that's mine. Take anything you'd like."

*

After dinner, Harry brought Severus over to kiss him, then silently asked him to rest his head on his chest. He loved holding Severus like this, loved cherishing him as he knew no one ever had before. Maneuvering them into a comfortable position so that Severus' arms were wrapped around Harry, long hair over his chest and their legs entwined.

Their legs...

Gosh, Severus' legs...

"You're very hairy," he said, squirming a bit at his sudden itch.

"What?" Severus said, lifting his head.

"Your legs. They're hairy. Seriously, there's, like, some forest under the sheets. I think we might need to take a lumberjack to it or something."

"Must you talk?"

"Hang on," he said, then dove under the covers, lifting them up around Severus' feet. "I was right!" he said, running his hands through Severus' dark hair. "It is a forest." He looked closer and said, "Look, there are trees and bushes...there's a rabbit!"

"All right, that's enough Harry," Severus said, shaking his leg to pry Harry off.

"And there's a fox! Oh, run, rabbit, run!"

Harry laughed and then Severus came over to his side of the bed, pulling him under his body and kissing him as his laughter faded. He loved how Severus shut him up.

*

Some time later, when they were quiet and the laughing and kissing had passed, Severus took Harry's hand in his and kissed it slowly, lovingly. Perhaps there would be no flowers and chocolates, but Severus did love the written word and there were many things about Harry that inspired him.

"'The voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses...nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands,'" he said softly, hoping Harry would hear the affection he'd put into the verse.

Quickly, Harry pulled his hand just as Severus was about to kiss it again. "Hey!"

"What?" Severus said, wondering what he'd said.

"My hands are perfectly normal-sized, thank you! And I think we already talked about how... You know... With the short and all."

Oh, Severus thought and scoffed. "Well, that's about the reaction I'd expect from my first attempt at romance."

"What?" Harry asked, gracelessly.

"It's a poem, Harry. I thought you'd like it."

"Oh."

There was silence for a moment and Severus tried not to kick himself for being such a silly arse, but then Harry leaned over him and kissed him.

"Say it again?"

*

"You know, my best friend for the longest time was Ron. Or, I guess Ron and Hermione," Harry said with a sigh. "I feel a bit odd about her. We'd always been so close, but since Ron's died..."

"I know."

"Yeah. And now Remus is back and...he's just been great this entire time. I mean, he couldn't have been better. I'm really grateful to him."

Severus said nothing, continuing to run a hand along Harry's back, his fingers causing a wonderful sensation to run through him.

"I think he's my best friend, now. Or he would be, if anyone was. Which is...odd. I don't know. Who's your best friend?"

Severus' hand stilled and Harry felt an odd kind of embarrassment flowing from him, then their eyes met and he saw what Severus couldn't say.

"Oh."

"Yes," Severus said, then continued his stroking, his other arm coming around Harry's waist to hold him tighter.

Harry felt horrible for embarrassing him so badly and even a bit guilty at the pleasure the sudden knowledge gave him. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—"

"Quiet, idiot boy. You're all I require."

Harry smiled and let it drop, a deep warmth filling him.

"My only," Severus whispered.

*

Harry loved Severus' body. It was long and sleek in all the right places and firm and...

He rolled on top of him and let his hands map it out, running over a firm but thin chest, bony hips and hairless thighs. He went lower and greeted Severus' half-hard cock and placed a kiss on the end, loving the soft grunt that accompanied it, then ran down his hairy legs.

"God, you have a beautiful body."

"You really should put your glasses on."

Harry laughed, then parted Severus' thighs to run a hand around the soft smoothness there. "I'm being serious."

"So am I."

Harry slapped a thigh and came back up to kiss Severus right before taking his advice and putting his glasses back on. He knew everything would look even better when they were clear.

"See? They're on and you're still amaz— Oh," he said, as he looked at Severus' right shoulder.

"What?" Severus asked, his tone worried. "Stop looking at me like that. Harry?"

He sounded genuinely worried now, so Harry responded. "You have three freckles on your shoulder."

Severus scrunched his brow and tried to turn his head so he could see what Harry was looking at. "Oh. So I do. Why is that so amazing? And stop staring at me like that."

Harry felt something stir inside him, and he draped himself over Severus to lick his shoulder.

"You have three freckles on your shoulder and you're beautiful," he said, not caring that he sounded like an idiot. "I want to name them."

Severus lifted an eyebrow, but said nothing.

"This one is Marshall," Harry said, kissing it, then moving on to the next. "And this one is Dimitri."

"Dimitri?" Severus asked, somewhat breathless.

"He's an exchange freckle from Russia. And this one," he said, licking it, "is Mildred."

"Mildred?" Severus asked, only this time with an edge to his tone.

"Yeah, I don't know why, but one of your freckles is a girl."

"Hmph."

"I love your body," Harry breathed, then slowly started to show Severus exactly how much. He ran his hands over Severus' sides as he kissed and licked and nipped his way down, smiling around wonderful nipples when he felt Severus shudder silently, then moved down to his stomach and hips, kissing pale flesh as he went.

He rubbed his nose over Severus' hard cock and felt his own stirring.

"Oh," he said, quickly climbing up to kiss Severus again. "Well, that's just luck."

Severus' eyes went wide and his hips thrust up, almost on their own accord. Harry quickly lined up their cocks so they were thrusting against each other, his erection raging now that it was rubbing against Severus'.

They quickly found a rhythm, Severus' arms coming around to grab Harry's back, then down to his arse, making Harry moan and thrust faster. They lost their easy rhythm as soon as they'd found it, Harry leaning down to kiss Severus, and Severus groaning into it, only making Harry lose control quicker.

"Fuck!" he exclaimed as he delighted in Severus' smooth body under his, pulling Severus' head by his hair so he could bite into his neck. And then Severus was coming with Harry quickly following.

He quickly crashed down, only to be caught by Severus' strong arms, both of them panting into the silence. Slowly, Severus reached up a hand to stroke his hair and Harry sighed into it, luxuriating in the afterglow.

"We're going to be disgusting soon if we don't clean up."

"I'm fine with being disgusting," Harry said, his face squashed against Severus' chest.

A sigh, then a whispered spell and they were clean.

Feeling more comfortable, Harry nestled deeper into the embrace. "That was amazing," he said, then realized that what was amazing to a seventeen-year-old might not be amazing to Severus. "Um... How... Did you—

Severus silenced Harry with a kiss, then he responded, "Yes, it was."

*

"Tell me something about yourself. Something unimportant but you think I should know," Harry said later that evening while Severus rested his head on his shoulder.

Severus considered what he should tell Harry. They'd covered so many topics these days lying in bed, happy just talking to each other. Some were very important, some—love of the Beatles notwithstanding—not at all. He decided to offer up what he viewed as a weakness Harry would soon encounter.

"I get sick every winter."

He felt Harry's head tilt down to look at him. "You get sick?"

"Terribly. It's disgusting and I haven't been able to find a potion to prevent it."

"Oh," Harry said and ran his hand through Severus' hair. "Well, what do you do?"

"I rest, I eat soup and drink tea and take cold potions that hardly work. It's very frustrating being a potions master who is unable to cure his own cold."

"Yeah, I can imagine that would be frustrating."

They were silent for a few minutes, then Harry suddenly said, "If you get sick, I'll take care of you."

"Thank you," Severus said, genuinely happy Harry had said that. "I am serious about it being disgusting, though."

His head moved up and down as Harry laughed then said, "I'll still take care of you."

Smiling and holding him tighter, Severus relaxed into the silence and closed his eyes, still amazed at how easily he could fall asleep with Harry.

"Alright, here's one for you," Harry said, rousing Severus from his dozing. "If there is a heaven, and it could be anything at all, anything you wanted it to be...what would it be for you?"

Severus stilled and his eyes opened wide at familiar words, the voice from his dream from months ago replaying in his head.

"Severus?"

Closing his eyes, he rubbed his cheek onto Harry's chest and inhaled deeply, wanting the feel of him, the smell of him all around him, to remind him that the nightmare hadn't happened, that Harry was here with him now.

Lifting himself up slowly, Severus leaned over Harry and kissed his lips, pushing him deeper into his pillows as Harry's arms came up to surround him.

This wasn't a dream, he reminded himself. This was real.

He pulled away from the kiss and put his hand on Harry's face, tracing his cheekbones with his thumbs, still amazed that they were here, together. The memory of the nightmare faded away and Severus answered Harry's question.

"I imagine it would be something very much like this."


	33. The Place Between Sleep and Awake

Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling and I make nothing from this story but personal satisfaction.

Warnings: Although not every chapter will have sex and violence, this story is rated NC-17. It's not safe for work or school and make sure your mother isn't reading over your shoulder.

A/N: I have returned! I was never truly away, but the last few months were exhausting for me. I finished my Snarry Holidays fic, but was forced to give up on my Severus Big Bang fic. I got to about 15k of 50 and just decided I needed a break. I've written a few ficlets since then, but this is the first real thing I've written for a while.

It feels good to be back.

Thank you to everyone who read the story while I was away. Your lovely reviews and enthusiasm make me so incredibly happy and I can't thank you all enough. I'm really hoping to get to the end by August, but we still have a little ways to go until then. I'm grateful to all of you who have stuck by me all this time.

Thanks go to Torina for the wonderful SPaG beta and to RaeWhit who tamed the smut and made sure all the limbs were in their proper places. Thank you, ladies.

* * *

-

Harry inhaled deeply as he woke, finding himself buried under a curtain of Severus' hair, their arms and legs tangled under the blankets.

He took a quick look around the room, but couldn't find anything that would have woken him, so he lay back down and grasped Severus tighter. Severus mumbled in his sleep and ran his hand down the small of Harry's back, then rubbed his leg over Harry's own before finding a comfortable position and drifting into silence once again.

Harry smiled in the dark and allowed himself to look his fill, to enjoy this for as long as he possibly could. Severus had said that they'd have to 'rejoin the world' today, and Harry knew that meant the end of their forced holiday. No more long talks, no more mid-morning gropes followed by mid-afternoon naps and sex. No more ignoring what was taking place outside the dungeon walls.

Although he was forced to admit he had no idea what was happening outside these walls. No news had reached them in the ten days they'd spent in bed. Severus had seen no point in it while Harry was recovering; there was nothing either of them could do to help.

And now that he'd recovered fully—had been fully recovered for days now, actually—the idea of leaving this room and facing everything that was out there left him wishing he was still ill.

It wasn't fear, at least not for himself. No, he knew he wasn't blessed with that particular sign of self-preservation, as Severus had said. It was something far worse, he thought.

He wanted it to end, of course he did. But was it so terrible if he just wanted to spend a little more time here, alone with Severus? After all they'd gone through, after all he had done, ten days just didn't seem like enough time. He forced himself not to think of the worst thing that could happen, or how unlikely it was for both of them to survive the war...

He sighed, then looked over to Severus again, barely able to make out the pale outline of his nose as he burrowed further into the pillow.

He contented himself with looking for a few more minutes, lost in his thoughts and wishing this could last for just a little longer when suddenly the dwindling fire sprung back to life in the hearth.

Harry had his wand in his hand before he took his next breath as he sat up, fully expecting Severus to have already cursed whoever was in the room until he cast a look to the chair in the corner.

"Ron," he said, lowering his wand. He suddenly noticed how the covers had fallen when he'd sat up and adjusted them.

"Hi, Harry," Ron said, sitting in the wingback chair in the far corner of the room with his legs crossed, as though he often visited that spot and was more than comfortable in it.

"Um. Hi." He looked at Ron, then chanced a glance at Severus, who was still sound asleep with his nose buried deep into his pillow.

"So you finally got to where you wanted to be, yeah?" Ron asked, making a vague gesture around the room, then at Severus, bundled up in the blankets.

His body calming, adrenaline having done its job, Harry sank back against the headboard and looked around the room himself.

"Yeah," he said absentmindedly. "Yeah, I have."

"And you're happy?"

Not able to keep the smile from lighting up his face, Harry looked down to Severus again and gently ran a hand over his hair.

"I never thought I could be so happy," he said quietly, honestly.

Realizing he sounded like a ridiculous romantic, Harry kept his eyes on Severus for a moment longer before looking back at Ron. He had a sad smile on his face, and Harry had no idea why.

"That's good, Harry. I'm glad for you, mate. I really am."

Harry nodded and smiled, a slight tension that he hadn't noticed before easing inside him. He'd felt terrible at how quickly he'd stopped grieving for his best friend, and knowing that he approved of the path his life had taken meant more to him than he could say.

"And you're feeling better now?" Ron asked, bringing Harry back to the conversation.

"Yeah, much. Better than ever, really."

Ron nodded, but kept his eyes on Harry, peering at him intently as his posture became even more relaxed.

"Then why are you still in bed, Harry?"

Harry laughed nervously for a second, then looked down, not knowing exactly how to answer that. He knew what he had to do, and all the reasons he had to do it. Avenging Ron was only one of many, so how did he explain why he wasn't casting off the blankets and getting back to it?

"I...um..."

"Why are you still in bed, Harry? There's a war going on outside. I know it's safe and comfortable here..."

_Harry..._

"You've had your rest. It's time to get up now," Ron continued plainly with no argument is his voice.

"I know, and I will—"

"Then why are you still in bed?"

_Harry..._

Squirming under Ron's assault, Harry felt guilt wash over him and tried to defend himself.

"I'm not, I'm—"

"Harry." Ron looked him in the eye and plainly said, "Get up. You have work to do."

_Potter!_

Harry was woken by the thump of a pillow to his head, then made extremely uncomfortable as the chill of the dungeons ran over his uncovered, naked body.

"Severus?" he asked, blinking as the light from the bathroom shined in his eyes.

"Hmph. Is it always this difficult to get you out of bed, or is this a special occasion?" Severus asked, his frown visible to Harry even without his glasses.

"Special occasion," Harry said, putting the pillow over his head. "End of our holiday and all," he continued with a sigh, knowing he had to get out of bed and fighting to gather the strength of will to face the outside world.

"You've been better for days now, Harry; you knew it had to end at some point," Severus said as he turned towards the bathroom. A moment later and the sound of the shower running could be heard and then the toilet being used.

"Yeah, there's work to be done," Harry said, finally removing himself from the protection of his pillow and putting on his glasses. Severus exited the bathroom in his robe, glaring at Harry who was still not getting out of bed.

"Yes, there is. We've been isolated for far too long. While I don't think Dumbledore would have kept anything earth-shattering from us, I have no doubt that things have happened while we've been away." Severus sighed as he sat down on the edge of the bed, then looked down at Harry, the glare lessening somewhat as he took in Harry's face.

"Did you sleep well?"

Harry smiled and stretched, then reached up and touched Severus' face, then his neck, letting his hand trail over his robe.

"Yeah. Had another dream about Ron."

Harry felt Severus tense under his hand, and he could feel his unease through the bond. Severus was silent for a moment before he looked down and asked, "Would you like to talk about it?"

Knowing how difficult it had been for Severus just to ask that question, Harry smiled as he shook his head. "No, I'm fine. It wasn't a bad dream, just...."

"Just..." Severus asked, not allowing Harry to get out of explaining himself.

"Sometimes when I dream of him, he tells me things." He looked up at the ceiling, the memory of his dream still burning brightly in his mind. "This time he told me I had to get up."

Scoffing, Severus laid a hand on Harry's chest and asked, "You do realize...?"

"I'm not an idiot," Harry said sarcastically. "But I always forget while I'm actually dreaming."

"That's how dreams work," Severus said, letting his hand slide up Harry's chest to his neck, and then his face. "And he was right. It _is_ time to get up."

"I know," he said, but made no move to join Severus.

A long sigh, then Severus cupped his face, turning Harry's eyes towards him.

"Is there another reason you're so reluctant to rejoin the world? I would think that you'd miss Lupin enough to want to get out of bed to see him, if nothing else."

Harry had no idea how to tell Severus what was currently plaguing his mind without causing Severus to lose all respect for him. It wasn't fear that made him want to curl under the blankets—at least not fear for himself.

"There's a war going on outside," he said softly, afraid of recrimination, "and you and I are at the center of it. After the attack..." he trailed off and allowed Severus to grasp his hand firmly, taking strength in the touch. "It's all speeding up to the end...and I know I'm not ready. I have to kill the bastard, I have to face him alone, and I can't win. At least not yet."

_Determination_

_Pride_

Slowly, Severus descended the distance between them and kissed Harry softly on the lips. Running a hand through his hair, he softly said, "We will train, beginning today, and you _will_ be ready. And Harry," he said quietly, fiercely, "you will not be alone."

A soft smile broke out across Harry face at the words and he kissed Severus back.

"I'll not leave you," Severus said, running a thumb over Harry's cheekbone. "I'll be with you until the end."

"Thank you," Harry said, knowing the words were not strong enough for what he wanted to express.

With a nod, Severus pulled back and asked, "Ready to face the day?"

"Yeah," Harry said, still not moving, watching Severus' back as he retreated.

From the bathroom Severus called out, "Of course soon we'll have larger things to worry about, like whether the stench of unwashed male will ever leave the sheets."

Harry groaned and began to say goodbye to the bed. He burrowed his head into the pillow one last time before stroking the purple blanket sadly.

"Are you my bondmate or my ward? Your hair is greasier than mine and cleansing charms can only do so much. _In_!" Severus shouted as he pointed to the shower, his patience seeming to finally be at an end.

Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, Harry groaned and rubbed his eyes before standing up. He walked into the bathroom, curious as to why Severus was still there, then watched as he let his robe drop to the floor.

"Oh."

Harry let his eyes roam over Severus' slender body, then back to his face to watch it twist up in a smirk.

"Harry," he said softly, "the holiday may be over, but you do realize that we are now _living_ together?"

Tilting his head upward, Harry responded with a kiss, then a smirk of his own as he felt Severus' cock twitch against his thigh. Before either could get too distracted, Severus broke off the kiss and entered the shower.

"At least I think we're living together," Severus muttered under his breath. "Merlin knows what decisions were made in our absence. Now hurry up and get in. The wolf is meeting us in less than half an hour in our sitting room."

The enticement of a naked Severus worked wonders, Harry thought as he hurried into the shower, only too glad to help Severus get those hard to reach places. He allowed Severus' touch to distract him, trying and failing to quell his fear over what lurked on the other side of the door.

* * *

-

Remus wrapped his robe tighter around himself as he descended the stairs to the dungeons. Although he knew it was likely in his head, he could've sworn the temperature dropped significantly as walked down the steps and into the damp hallway that led to Severus' quarters.

Breakfast had finished and he watched as professors and members of the Order escorted students to their classes, an eerie, horrible silence hanging over them where there should've been enthusiastic chatter. The past ten days had given them nothing to be cheerful about, Remus lamented, and Merlin only knew how long all this would last.

He watched in silence as Tonks walked in the middle of a group of Slytherins leaving their potions class to ascend the stairs. A moment later he rushed forward in concern when a little blonde girl dropped her book bag and began to panic as books spilled out onto the floor. He quickly put her books in order for her, his smile seeming to quell her fear somewhat. Looking up to see that the entire class had stopped for her, his own forgotten fear seized him as he met Tonk's eyes.

It was one thing when children were afraid. Children are often afraid in the face of the unknown. But to see a grown woman, an Auror, terrified...

Not knowing what else to do, he smiled at her as well; wanting to reassure her of something, anything in all the uncertainty. She returned his smile, though it didn't reach her eyes, and their hands touched briefly as he handed her the girl's book bag.

He watched them leave, then forced his fear down as he had been doing for days. Not that it was doing a bit of good; every sentient being in the castle was on high alert. Their fear was almost tangible; Remus thought he could cut through the tension with a knife.

He sighed and thought about how much things had changed since he'd last seen Harry.

The past ten days had been uncomfortable for him to say the least. Since Dumbledore had made him Harry's proxy he'd had to attend every meeting as a stand-in for his young friend. When Dumbledore had wanted to interrupt Harry's recovery prematurely, Remus had pushed his fear of what was to come aside and made it very clear that that was one thing he wouldn't stand for. After all the time they'd spend apart, after how hurt Harry had been—in more ways than one—Remus had wanted to give he and Severus as much time together as he possibly could.

He'd had to remind Dumbledore about the bond needing to mature several times during the week to keep his concerns at bay, but the point was it had worked.

When Severus had contacted him yesterday—his hair mussed and his expression satisfied—Remus had been beyond relieved. Of course the joy he felt at being able to see Harry again was momentarily countered by the knowledge that he was about to disturb the only honeymoon Harry and Severus were likely to have.

He knocked on the door to Severus' quarters, and the loudness of the sound once again only called attention to the disturbing quiet of the castle and its occupants. He waited for a moment, then the door cracked open and Severus barked out an 'enter!'

The juxtaposition in which he found himself was unsettling to say the least.

Leaving the unnaturally cold, quiet halls of Hogwarts, Remus stepped into a warm sitting room that was alive with the sound of deep murmuring and poorly contained laughter. He closed the door and stepped entirely into the room, feeling as though he had brought the war in with him.

Harry and Severus were sitting next to each other on the sofa, close but not so close that they were touching. That had probably been at Severus' insistence, Remus thought, and he was proven correct a moment later when Severus inched away from Harry in an attempt at putting a bit more distance between them.

Amused, Remus watched as Severus' plan failed and Harry leaned towards him all the same.

Neither were looking at him as he walked into the room, still alone in the world they'd no doubt created over the last week and a half, and so Remus took a moment to observe them.

There was no doubt that they'd resolved whatever differences had still been between them when Severus had finally acquiesced and allowed Harry to come down with him into the dungeons. The smile that graced Harry's face was enough to light up the room, and Remus was glad to see it.

Ten days of frightened children, exhausted Order members, and meetings where nothing was resolved had taken its toll, and seeing someone—anyone—happy did Remus good.

But he'd been expecting Harry's happiness. What was surprising was the fact that Severus seemed unable to hide his smile as well.

Well. Smirk was perhaps a better description, but he'd seen several versions of Severus' definition of a smile and he knew he'd never seen this one before. He hoped it meant Severus was finally happy.

Someone should be, he thought a moment later, when the two of them finally turned to greet him.

"Remus!" Harry said cheerfully, standing up and walking over to him, his steps faltering as he examined Remus' face.

Feeling as though he was ruining all the fun they'd been having, Remus quickly smiled and walked the rest of the distance towards Harry.

"It's good to see you, Harry, Severus," he said, grabbing Harry's shoulder in a friendly gesture, then nodding to Severus on the sofa.

Severus who was just as astute as Harry.

"What's happened?" he asked with a glare, and Remus took that as permission to sit. Harry rejoined Severus on the sofa and laced their hands together. Remus hated having to stifle his smile, but he forced himself to as Severus turned his glare on Harry and snatched his hand away.

Rolling his eyes, Harry grabbed Severus' hand again and put it in his lap. "You look like hell, Remus. I know...um...well, I know we've been out of the loop, but—"

"Out with it, Lupin!"

Remus crossed his legs and put his elbows on the armrests of his chair. "It's not so much what's happened as what hasn't happened."

Harry gave a confused 'huh?' while Severus muttered something that vaguely sounded like a threat.

"There have been more attacks," he started slowly, not wanting to delve too deeply into this topic when he knew Dumbledore would be going over it again later. "Godric's Hollow was raided, Harry. The remains of your family's home was burned to the ground."

Paling slightly, Harry whispered, "Oh," and Remus saw Severus grasp his hand tighter. "I didn't even know it was still there."

"It was," Remus said, not knowing what else to say—knowing it had to be odd to lose something you hadn't known you had.

"I'm sorry, Harry," Severus whispered softly, and Harry nodded while trying to smile.

"What else?" he asked plainly.

"I meant what I said—there's been nothing but these raids, and the Order is hardly able to do anything about them. How do you defend against something so random? Entire towns?"

"And Hogwarts?" Severus asked with a tension that hadn't been there a moment before.

Running a hand through his hair, Remus grimaced and said, "Dumbledore wants to speak with the both of you when we're done here. Hogwarts is on full alert. The Floo network within the school has been shut down, Order members are guarding the gates around the clock, escorting students to class..." He trailed off and looked Harry in the eye. "It's feels like a far different place than the one you left ten days ago.

"I wanted to see you before Dumbledore did, Harry," Remus continued. "To warn you, yes, but..." He trailed off, knowing how ridiculous what he was about to say would sound, but decided to say it anyway. "I'll be honest—it's good to see you laughing again."

Harry smiled and turned to Severus, who hardly seemed amused.

"And where does everyone believe Harry to be?" he asked through gritted teeth, though Remus knew he what he was really asking. Had they been found out? Did everyone know of their relationship?

"You're recovering at an undisclosed location," he said to Harry, watching as Severus breathed a sigh of relief. "Though I did let Hermione know where you were. She can be quite demanding when she wants to be."

"Yeah," Harry said with a laugh and a far-away look in his eyes. "That's going to be a fun conversation."

"It's important to keep your friends close to you, Harry, especially in times such as these," Severus said quietly. Remus silently agreed.

"I know. So..." he said, then turned to Remus again. "If Dumbledore's going to go over everything anyway...how have you been?"

Smiling was still a relief at this point, Remus thought as he said, "Good. And the two of you? What have you been up to?" Harry gave a nervous laugh and Severus smirked, leaving Remus feeling like an idiot. "I have no idea what was going through my mind to ask that question."

This time Harry's laugh was genuine, and Remus watched as Severus' eyes softened at the sound of it.

"I am sorry I had to be the one to break up your honeymoon..."

"Honeymoon?" Harry asked as though he'd never heard the word. "What honeymoon?"

"Oh, um—" Remus floundered for a moment, glancing at Severus and wondering if he'd just put his foot so far into his mouth he'd never see it again. "Well, perhaps you're not actually married, but—"

"Hold on," Harry said, then turned to Severus. "I thought we were married."

Remus hadn't had Severus' glare turned on him in such a way in _years_.

"'Magical equivalent of marriage' does not translate into marriage. Do you recall saying vows?" Severus asked Harry, though his glare was still on Remus.

"Well, no. So, wait, does this mean we're going to get married?"

Severus sputtered and looked at Harry incredulously before standing up. "I'm going to my office."

For a moment Remus worried he'd not only spoiled their holiday but had also caused their first real fight as couple, but then Harry said, "Say hello to all the slimy things for me."

He'd seen it briefly before, but it did him a world of good to see Harry tease Severus.

"I'll return when whatever silliness that exists between the two of you has run its course," Severus grumbled.

Remus waited until the door to Severus' office was partially closed—it seemed Severus wasn't willing to let Harry out of earshot—before he softly said, "Oh, dear. I didn't mean to cause any...awkward conversations."

Harry waved a hand through the air and said, "You didn't. Bonded, married, I don't care. But even after the last week, it's nice knowing that I can..." he trailed off, but Remus knew exactly what he meant.

"So, baring any details, how have you—"

"Wait just a second," Harry said, then called out over his shoulder, "Severus, what do you think about a June wedding?"

The sound of glass breaking and grumbling could barely be heard over Harry's soft laughter.

"Sorry about that. I don't think he cares either," Harry said in a whisper, "I think it's just the idea of flowers and chocolates and...well, _people_ that ruffle his feathers."

This had been exactly what he'd hoped it would be, Remus thought as he leaned back further into his chair. This cozy domesticity might not belong to him, but observing from the outside was balm to his soul nonetheless. He was glad the conversation had steered away from the war. There'd be time enough for that in a few minutes when they went to speak with Dumbledore.

"And how are you now, Harry?" he asked solemnly, letting Harry know by his tone that he meant for his question to be answered with more than a 'fine, thanks.'

"I'm wonderful," he responded genuinely. "Really, I've never been better." As soon as he spoke the words, however, his expression turned sour and he looked at the door that led to the dungeons.

"Is it terrible out there?" Harry asked quietly—fearfully—and Remus saw Severus peek his head through his office door out of the corner of his eye. "Were we gone too long?"

"No," Remus answered truthfully. "You've been gone as long as was needed, Harry. There's nothing wrong with recovering, and you have a long road ahead of you." He looked Harry in the eye and slowly said, "And yes, it's terrible out there. I'm very glad Severus came to his senses when he did."

Quietly—much to Remus' surprise—Severus left his office and rejoined Harry on the sofa, not hesitating to take his smaller hand in his own. He watched as Harry looked at the door, then at Severus, some silent communication happening between them before he stood up.

"Right. Well, what are we waiting for?"

* * *

-

Harry shivered as he walked up the stairs from the dungeons, Severus on one side and Remus on his other. They'd left their quarters just as class had let out, and Harry felt awkwardly conspicuous as the students left their classrooms only to stare at him in open wonder.

The castle was as oddly quiet as Remus had described; the only sound in the hallways were voices whispering his name. Trying to make it seem as though he'd rather be anywhere but by Severus' side, Harry tried to grimace and slump his shoulders, quickly finding it all too natural as the anxiety crept inside him.

He heard his name muttered again and managed to pick up a few scattered phrased: 'almost died' and 'this is because of him' and 'if he were gone we'd be left alone.' Clenching his fists, it was all he could do to not grab Severus' hand as they headed towards the staircase that led to Dumbledore's office.

"Ignore them," Severus said as they ascended the stairs, but it was easier said than done. Even the Order members were watching him as he walked by, and God knew what they'd been told about where he'd been.

Harry did his best to keep his eyes straight ahead; not looking to see all the people that were lined up outside the halls as he walked by, trying to feel like the weight of the world wasn't crashing down on his shoulders when it was.

He felt every accusatory stare, witnessed every pitying look and silently wished it was yesterday.

"We're almost there, Harry," Remus said quietly beside him, and Harry saw him wave an Order member on out of the corner of his eye. "Don't pay them any attention. They're simply...curious."

Severus scoff mirrored Harry's own, and he was about to reply when they passed the Transfiguration classroom and his year mates stepped out.

Neville was the first to see him, his eyes widening with equal parts fear and amazement. "Harry! Oh, I'm so glad to see you—" But before Neville could get anywhere close to him, Severus had put up his hand to stop him.

For a moment Harry thought Severus was going to say something, but it seemed his glare was enough to silence poor Neville.

"Hi, um..." Harry trailed off as Seamus and Dean came up beside him and Harry knew it was only a matter of time before...

"Harry?"

He heard a soft voice calling over to him and looked towards at Hermione; her face pale and her expression guarded.

"Um..."

He watched as her eyes darted to him and then to Severus, then down to the floor as though simply by looking at them she'd be giving them away. He wanted to tell her where he'd been, that he was alright, that he'd speak to her soon, but there was a crowd growing and he could feel Severus' anxiety rising.

"I have to go and speak with Dumbledore," he told everyone who'd crowded around him. "I'll talk to you later...everyone."

With a quick look back to Severus the rest of his year mates continued to their next class, some Order member Harry didn't know patiently escorting them. Only Hermione stayed behind, looking first towards the group she was supposed to stay with, then Harry, then her shoes.

"Hermione," he said softly, "we'll talk later. Not here."

She nodded in that heartsick manner she'd adopted since June, then hurried along towards Neville. Running a hand through his hair, Harry felt his heart twisting as he watched her—watched them all—go, knowing that if he failed they'd be the ones to suffer.

A silence passed over the hallway, and Harry felt the weight of it fall all around him, threatening to bury him. The situation in which he found himself struck him like a fist and he suddenly realized what was expected of him. He'd known the truth for over a year—his heart had known it far longer—and yet only in that moment did he finally understand what would happen if he failed.

And then suddenly the cold was chased away by a warm hand wrapping itself around his own and he felt soft hair tickle his cheek. Not bothering to see who was watching, Harry looked over to Severus, whose eyes were half on Harry and half on the hallway.

"You'll not face it alone," he whispered, repeating his promise from this morning when Harry couldn't have known how much he would have need of it. "_You are not alone_."

Gripping the hand in his tightly, Harry let his forehead lean against Severus chin for a moment before he pulled away, nodding; telling Severus everything he couldn't say aloud with his eyes. A nod and then they were walking again, Remus a silent witness to his moment of self-doubt.

The air remained thick as they finally arrived at Dumbledore's office, ascending the stairs with an air of solemn quiet. Halfway up the stairs, Harry reached for Severus' hand again, hoping he'd allow the somewhat-public display of affection, and relaxed just a fraction as he felt Severus' long-fingered hand grasp his.

Gripping it tighter, Harry walked with Severus and Remus into Dumbledore's office, taking in the disarray they met as they walked inside.

The chessboard that he'd noticed before was sitting on the edge of Dumbledore's desk, and Harry watched how Severus took notice of it. Harry wished he'd paid more attention to Ron when he'd been playing chess, as he knew there was something he was missing. The pieces were in different positions than they'd been the last time he'd seen it; the black queen was in the center of the board and several of the white pieces had been removed. Looking over to Severus, Harry watched him analyze the board, then scowl.

Dumbledore seemed to be in his own world at the moment; he looked up and barely acknowledged them with a 'have a seat, boys' before returning to his correspondence. They did as they were instructed, Harry half-surprised that he hadn't been offered tea and second breakfast by now. Dumbledore's distraction and the utter quiet in the room were like an odd weight upon him, and Harry felt as though there were less air in here than there had been in the hallway.

Finally, he handed over the parchment to Fawkes—who took it, then disappeared in a puff of smoke— before Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and gave them a weak smile.

"Oh, my boys," Dumbledore said, his eyes betraying the fear that his tone did not. "I'm so relieved to see you together," he said as his eyes looked down to their joined hands. Harry felt Severus move a bit, as though he were going to release him, but he didn't. "And was the time you spent away enough? Do you feel well and truly settled?"

Harry frowned and looked to Severus, who looked back seeming more annoyed than confused.

"Um..." Harry said, having no idea what to say to that. Dumbledore chuckled quietly.

"Albus," Severus said, rubbing his temples with his left hand, "could we please skip the pleasantries—as amusing as they are—and speak about what's brought us here?"

The false smile Dumbledore had been forcing fell, and he looked down at his desk. "Although your relationship is a vital part of the war effort, I do care for you both. I'd thought you had realized that, Severus."

There wasn't an ounce of remorse coming from Severus, and Harry squeezed his hand to try and belay his temper.

Teeth ground together and jaw clenched, Severus said, "My apologies, Headmaster. We are well. Harry has made a full recovery and we are_ more than ready_ to continue contributing to the Order. Yourself?"

"As well as can be, thank you."

"And the weather?"

"Severus—" Remus began, but Harry rushed to stop the impending argument.

"What's happened since we've been gone?" he asked, wanting the most important question answered first. "The castle feels more like a—a fortress than a school."

"Harry, much has happened since you've been away, and yet..." Dumbledore trailed off and looked over at Remus, who seemed to want to be anywhere but here.

"The castle is on high alert," Dumbledore began, and Harry leaned in to listen. "There hasn't been another attack on Hogwarts, but Voldemort has escalated his attacks on wizarding villages."

"Godric's Hollow," Harry said in a low voice, taking pause as he envisioned a home he'd never known destroyed.

Dumbledore's gaze passed to Remus for a moment, then said, "Yes." Harry," Dumbledore began, meeting his eyes. His hands began to slowly trace over some parchment on his desk, his reluctance to speak evident through his actions. "These attacks—the train, the pitch, Godric's Hollow—have made it very obvious what Voldemort wants."

"He's targeting you, Harry," Severus said, saying in words what Dumbledore was only dancing around.

"But he's always been targeting me," Harry replied, his fear beginning to rise and his temper with it. "He's been targeting me since I came to this school. What's changed?"

"He's trying to lure you out," Severus said quickly, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "What is our strategy?" Severus asked, and Harry bristled for a moment, hating that they were talking about his life without his input, but then Severus squeezed his hand again and he calmed.

"That's the problem," Remus offered quietly from his seat. "He wants Harry. We've always known that," he said, his voice growing louder as his obvious frustration grew. "And with this bond between you finally in place and maturing, we know exactly how the end is going to play out, but..."

_Fear_

_Uncertainty _

"What are you going to do?" Severus asked, his voice low and dark, glaring at Dumbledore and releasing Harry's hand for the first time since he'd taken it.

"Nothing drastic, I assure you. However, the end does revolve around Harry. You knew that, Severus; you've _always_ known that."

Severus sneered at the implication, but it was the silent fear that penetrated the bond that was enough to startle Harry. Clearing his mind and forcing Severus' emotions away from him, Harry focused on the matter at hand, and looked around the men in the room as though everyone was in on the secret except him.

"I don't understand," Harry said, looking at Dumbledore. "What's the plan? What are we going to do? We can't just let this go on..."

"And we won't, Harry—"

"How many people have died because of me—because I was in bed for over a week?" he asked, his voice cold, but his anger growing.

"Harry," Severus whispered, grabbing Harry's hand again, "no one's died because of you. None of this is your fault."

Harry grabbed his hand away, turning back to Dumbledore and ignoring the small stab of hurt he felt through the bond. "He wants me; all of this can only end with me." He looked around at the three of them, starting to shout as adrenaline and fear took over. "By my hand, with my wand. This is my fight." All eyes were on him and he hated feeling so exposed, being at the center of things. "I can't let people die because I'm not ready."

"Harry, listen to me," Severus said, grabbing his shoulders and turning him so they were face-to-face. "None of this is your fault. You can't rush this."

Wanting no comfort at a time like this—guilt rushing through him, adrenaline burning through his veins—Harry pushed Severus off and shouted, "Don't you dare talk to me about fault. You of all people have no right to tell me that."

_Distress_

_Pain_

Outwardly Severus remained unaffected, but Harry knew he'd stepped over the line. He felt remorse instantly and his anger left him as quickly as it had come. "I'm sorry," he muttered softly, hoping no one but Severus had heard him.

The hands hadn't left his shoulders.

His eyes were on the floor, so he only heard the scraping of a chair and then Severus was sitting next to him, his hand tight on his shoulder. His fear briefly forgotten, Harry allowed himself a moment to be amazed. He'd expected Severus to ignore him at best, or worse walk out of the room in response to his cruelty.

In the midst of his fear and panic, Harry felt the warm comfort of Severus' hand on his shoulder and closed his eyes.

_I'll not leave you._

"You'll not use him as bait," Severus said firmly, bringing Harry back into the conversation. "Just because you have no other plan—"

"There's nothing else he wants, Severus, aside from Harry," Dumbledore responded, his voice losing its calm tone as he grew more and more agitated. "And you make it sound as if I want to send him out completely unprepared—"

"Then how would you do it? And when?"

Dumbledore sat back in his chair and ran a hand over his eyes, then down his beard.

"How close is he to being ready? Has the bond matured enough?"

Severus released his shoulder, and Harry watched him lower his arm and glare at Dumbledore, then close his eyes. Slowly, Harry felt a warm sensation somewhere in the back of his mind, as though a string were being pulled taunt between himself and Severus, their powers flowing along the bond. He couldn't help closing his eyes in response, and tried to reach out and touch Severus the way he was being touched. He tried to imagine some imperceptible hand touching the thing he couldn't see, only felt, but failed. He opened his eyes to see Dumbledore's expectant gaze.

"Well?" Dumbledore asked, his tone betraying his anxiousness.

"It's stronger than before," Severus said, opening his eyes, and Harry felt the warm sensation fade. "Much stronger, but I haven't even begun to test it."

"How much time will you need?"

"There's no way of knowing..." Severus said with a sigh, then looked over at Harry. "I'll need a few days, at least, to gauge how long it will take—"

"No."

Harry was almost as surprised as the others that the word had come from his mouth.

"We can't waste any time," he said calmly, as sure of himself as he'd ever been. "If these raids won't stop...if people keep dying because _I_ need time..."

"Harry, there's no sense in facing him unprepared," Severus said.

"And where would this confrontation take place?" Remus asked. "As Severus said, we can't use you as bait. What would we do? Have him attack the castle?"

Remus' statement gave Harry pause as he considered what an attack on Hogwarts would mean. He chased away thoughts of students dying and said, "Then send me to Grimmauld Place or...some deserted area in the country where no one will get hurt—"

"But to what end, my boy?" Dumbledore asked. "And how would Voldemort receive word of your location? Our only spy has finally taken a side, which leaves us with limited options."

Running a hand over his face, Harry closed his eyes for a moment as he felt the situation he was in spiral out of control. After all this time, it felt as though he shouldn't be so surprised to find Dumbledore without any solid plan. Every time he'd faced Voldemort and won it had been out of sheer luck or from his mother's protection. There'd been no strategic plan, no well-coordinated effort. Why did everyone expect to make one now?

"Just let me go," he said ardently, his hands shaking in his anger and fear. "If he attacks the castle, then everyone will—" he broke off and looked towards Severus. Severus, who'd now publicly betrayed Voldemort, Severus who would be susceptible to vicious attack, second only to Harry as a target of the Death Eaters' desire for violence.

If staying at Hogwarts meant putting everyone Harry cared about at risk, then he had no choice but to go.

"Please," he begged Dumbledore. "I can't be the reason more people die. There's been too much already..."

He quietly broke off as fingers touched his arm and he turned towards Severus, his hand reaching out to touch Severus' own, needing him in a way he never had until now.

"If you go now," Severus said slowly, in a voice so low Harry knew no one else could hear, "he will kill you."

Shaking his head, Harry fought to deny that; he wanted to tell Severus he was ready, that the bond was mature enough, that he could do this, but he was silenced by a firm grip on his chin.

"Listen to me!" Severus said in a violent hiss. "I don't know how much time you need, but I know if you go now he will kill you...easily. And what would happen to your friends then?"

Ripping his face away from that hand, Harry opened his mouth to respond, but was stopped by Dumbledore. "And what would happen to Severus, Harry? With you dead, Severus would be Voldemort's prime target, or second, perhaps, only to me."

Closing his eyes, Harry sought to calm his body and control his emotions as he took in the truth.

"You're the only one who can destroy him, Harry," Dumbledore continued, relentless in his efforts to make Harry hear him. "You and Severus were bonded for a reason. It will be _this_ bond, with _this_ man, that will defeat him." He was silent for a moment, and Harry tried to breathe, tried to take strength from Severus, who was holding his hand so tightly it was nearly painful.

"You must be patient," Dumbledore said, and then silence filled the room; not a sound could be heard but the sound of Harry's rough breathing.

The grip on his hand diminished as he gained control of himself. Harry felt deflated and lost.

"He'll stay with me," Severus said, suddenly breaking the silence. "I'll not be away from him any longer."

"It was never my idea to separate the two of you," Dumbledore said, his voice grim. "No one outside of the people in this room—and Hermione Granger—know about the relationship between yourself and Harry, Severus. I'm going to keep it that way for the time being."

"The odds of keeping a secret in _this_ school—"

"You will make every effort," Dumbledore interrupted. "I'm confident no one suspects a thing. It makes perfect sense that Severus—a dark arts expert and member of the Order—would train Harry to defeat Voldemort. If there are any questions raised, and I don't believe there will be, that will be my answer. We can't risk the students finding out. It would be a disaster."

Severus scoffed even as Harry silently agreed. He wasn't sure what would be the bigger scandal—the fact that a student had taken up with a teacher or that the Boy-Who-Lived was bonded to a former Death Eater.

"Did you have any other concerns?" Dumbledore asked, already shuffling the parchment on his desk.

"No," Severus said. "We'll begin training today and then every day after Harry's classes—"

"Do you think that wise?" Dumbledore asked, interrupting, and Harry felt Severus' anger and witnessed Remus' shock. He looked first at Severus, then Remus, having no idea what Dumbledore had inferred that had them both so upset.

_Rage_

_Fury_

"Harry will survive this war," Severus said in a deadly voice, but Harry had no idea where it had come from. "He _will_ survive this war and when he does he will use the education he's acquired here to do whatever the hell he wants. You'll not turn him into some weapon, some empty vessel to use at your whim!"

"How dare you—"

"I don't think you should say anything right now, Albus," Remus said, standing to come between the two men.

"I have Harry's best interests at heart, Severus," Dumbledore said firmly. "He can always catch up on his studies after the war—"

Severus stood up so quickly he turned his chair over in his haste. Grabbing Harry's hand, he began to storm towards the door, nearly dragging Harry after him. Quickly, Harry pulled Severus back, not releasing his hand, but needing to say something to Dumbledore, needing to settle all of this. His future felt as though it was hanging in midair, with no one but Severus and Remus protecting it.

Harry's gaze passed the chaos of Dumbledore's desk, ignoring Remus—who stood as though he wanted to walk right out with them—and looked into troubled blue eyes.

"I—" he started, but faltered. There were no words. His anger calming in the face of Severus' righteous fury, Harry was able to see how complicated the situation was and how Dumbledore only wanted the end of it in the quickest way possible.

Harry felt exactly the same way and had no idea what to do with it.

"Harry," Severus said in the same soft voice he'd used in the bedroom this morning. His hand was squeezed, then pulled in the direction of the door.

Not knowing what to say, he turned from Dumbledore and looked at his friend.

"I'll see you later, Remus," he said, and with that they walked out the door. As they trudged down the staircase, Severus released his hand and Harry immediately felt alone without it. The walk down to the dungeon was colder than it had even been, and Harry put his hands in his pockets though they were no substitute for Severus' warmth.

* * *

-

Severus opened the door and allowed Harry to walk inside, taking another look around the hallway before stepping in himself. He thought it more than a little unwise to walk down to the dungeons with Harry, but people were bound to see them together if they were going to be training as intensely as he planned. And if anyone asked, that's exactly what he would tell them. But the fear of being discovered was burrowing deep within him, and Severus knew that was only one of a long list of their problems.

Walking further into the room, he discovered the fire had burned out, leaving the area far colder than it had been when they left. He watched as Harry rubbed his hands along his arms, his back to Severus as he stared at their bedroom door.

Severus relit the fire and then walked towards Harry, hardly knowing what to say but determined to give him whatever it was he needed. Grabbing hold of firm shoulders, then running his hands over Harry's arms, Severus tried to think of something to say that would give Harry any measure of comfort, but came up wanting.

"Harry..." he started, then realized there was hardly anything he _could_ say. He'd said everything already, and he knew Harry would hardly welcome a repeat of words that would only go so far. Harry was breathing quickly, his body vibrating in fear and rage, but he brought up his hands to cover Severus' own.

"How long were we gone?" Harry asked, trying and failing for nonchalant.

"Less than an hour."

"Oh." Their fingers laced together, and Severus welcomed the freedom of being able to touch Harry in their own quarters. "Feels like longer."

"Harry..."

"Don't," Harry whispered as he turned, his hands running over the collar of Severus' shirt, wisps of hair tickling Severus' nose. "Just...don't say a thing. Please." Fingers grabbed at his head roughly and hot, frantic breath covered his face as Harry's mouth attacked his gracelessly. As Harry's lips, his tongue, devoured Severus with a desperation he'd never shown, his hands began to tear at Severus' clothing with the same frantic enthusiasm.

Understanding now what Harry needed, Severus wrapped his arms around him, trying to hold him close. In one motion Harry threw him off, refusing to be stilled, his movements unorganized and careless.

_Desperation_

_Need_

"Please," Harry whispered frantically, his plea a puff of hot hair along Severus' neck. Their eyes met and Severus saw the fear, the desire, the need Harry felt, and nearly growled his assent.

If this was what Harry needed, he thought, then he would give it to him. He bit Harry's neck, his teeth clamping down on soft flesh—so incredibly glad that the bond didn't interpret the move as violence—then grabbed Harry's robes, shuffling him to the bedroom so quickly he nearly fell over.

He did not carry him.

Stepping inside the room Severus quickly shed his shoes, then his outer robes, and Harry did the same before attacking his face again. This type of kiss could hardly be called anything else; his lips being assaulted, his body advanced upon. They'd never had this type of lovemaking before, but as they fell on top of each other on the bed Severus was surprised to discover he needed this just as badly as Harry.

Pinning Harry down with his body Severus tore at his remaining clothes, freeing Harry's cock which looked as desperate as the rest of him. Harry grabbed Severus' face and forced their lips together again, a mournful, sobbing sound ripping from his throat as he flipped Severus onto his back.

His trousers were pulled down and off and a hot, wet mouth was on his cock for just a moment before Harry was kissing his face again.

"Severus, please. Can I..."

Though Severus hated to deny Harry anything, he knew now wasn't the time for what he was asking. "Not right now. Now is for you."

"But I—"

"Hush. Let me take care of you." And then Severus flipped him over, Harry biting his ear and clawing at his back, all discussion over as the frantic, driving need came back in a rush. Legs were wrapped around his own and Harry positioned himself and sucked at Severus neck, pulling a groan from him as he felt around the nightstand for the lubrication.

The first finger was barely inside when Harry squeezed around him and cried out, "That's enough. Just..."

Ignoring him, Severus added another finger and tried to shake off the hands tugging at his hair, scratching his neck; the legs that were attempting to pull his hips into position.

"Please, Severus!" Harry cried out and in an instant he could feel the bond pulling at him just as it had that day with Draco, telling him that his bondmate needed him.

His hands left Harry's arse and traveled up his hips, pulling them up as he heard Harry give a relieved grunt before he covered his smaller body with his own. Harry's arms came up to surround him, his legs grasping him tighter, as he slowly entered in one sure stroke.

"Fuck, yes," Harry said, his eyes closing and his mouth opening, his face losing just a little of its desperation as Severus kissed him and began to thrust.

Every time they'd made love in the past week it had been slow, their movements deliberate, hands laced together, eyes never leaving the other's. They had waited so long to be together, and Severus found it natural to pour every ounce of his devotion into his movements and Harry had met it with youthful exuberance and an open heart.

Now, as he pounded into Harry's arse and Harry dug his nails into his back, Severus marveled at where a single morning had taken them.

"Harder, fuck! I'm not going to break!"

Severus pushed his face against Harry's shoulder and complied, reducing Harry to a babbling wreck as his cock brushed against his prostate mercilessly.

"Please, please, yes," Harry muttered and Severus felt his satisfaction, his need being met through the bond and shifted his hips to thrust deeper.

Severus felt the pleasure building within him, and grabbed hold of Harry's cock, his hand still slick with lubricant. Giving it several sharp pulls, Harry came with a whimper, his face beautiful as it twisted in gratification. Severus thrust his hips harder and looked his fill at Harry's face, his eyes hooded as they looked up at Severus. Gazing into that beloved face, Severus gave himself over to pleasure and thrust deeply, a groan torn from his throat without his consent.

Still breathing harshly, Severus was pulled down into waiting arms, but neither spoke for a several minutes. Instead the kisses returned, Harry caressing his cheek first, then his nose, before kissing lightly at his lips as he waited for Severus to come back to himself.

A soft sigh blew across his damp cheek, chilling it where it had been so hot, and then Harry whispered, "I love you."

Severus said nothing in reply but he held Harry tighter, burrowing his nose into his soft hair and wrapping his body around him as though he could forever shield him from the world.

A happy sigh told him he'd been heard, eyelashes tickling his cheek bringing a dozen endearments to his lips. He said none of them, but there was hardly any need to do so. He held Harry tightly, possessively for a few more moments before Harry shifted in his arms and said, "He's going to kill me, isn't he?"

"No," Severus said firmly, holding Harry impossibly tighter. "You will not die."

Harry gave a scoff that was far too similar to his own and said, "You can't know that."

"I do. We will train, beginning today."

"Yeah," Harry said, then, "what time is it?"

Severus reached for his wand, cast _tempus_, and said, "Ten-thirty in the morning."

"God," Harry grunted, then burrowed deeper into the pillows. For the first time Severus noticed they were lying on top of the covers—the stench of unwashed male having gone with the rest of their dirty laundry—and he covered Harry's body with his own to stave off the chill.

"I believe it's time to get up," Severus said, though he made no move to do so.

"Yeah," Harry said, his tone heavy with remorse. "There's work to be done."


	34. The Pause

A/N: Thanks to WhiteCotton for betaing this chapter for me and making sure the smut was anatomically correct. I'm going to take a short break while I write my story for the SeverusSighs Grand Challenge, which will probably be the last fest I participate in before I finish this story. There are only a handful of chapters to go and I really want to get them out. They're festering!

Once again, thank you all for reading and reviewing. I really put my all into this story and it means so much to hear from you.

* * *

"There comes a pause, for human strength will not endure to dance without cessation; and everyone must reach the point at length of absolute prostration." Lewis Carroll

*

"_Reducto_!"

Leaning back further into the chair the room had given him, Severus struggled not to reveal his fatigue to Harry. He watched as Harry's spell hit its target, encouraged when he saw the ball decimated, its pieces flung to all corners of the Room of Requirement.

"Better," he said, trying to speak with an even voice even as he struggled not to gasp for air.

Over the past week of training, Harry had finally learned to wield Severus' power as his own. With the bond mature now—and maturing more by the day, by Severus' estimation—Harry was able to put more power behind his spells than Severus could have hoped for.

"Are you all right?" Harry asked, concerned.

The only drawback to the training was the fatigue Severus felt by the end of it. It had started out small, with him feeling just a bit tired at the end of that first day. But as the week continued and Harry had proved his worth in defensive magic, the fatigue was growing stronger and coming quicker.

Harry's hand found his own and Severus felt the bond open, giving him back what had been taken like a gentle breeze.

"I don't like this part," Harry whispered, and Severus looked up into worried green eyes. "It shouldn't work like this," Harry continued. "What kind of bond doesn't let me hit you but will let me make you feel like this?"

Slowly, Severus took Harry's hands in his and then drew him close, resting his aching head against Harry's chest, pleased when the world stopped spinning a few moments later. Harry's hands began to run through his hair and massage his temples, his concern and sadness penetrating Severus through the bond.

When he felt himself again, Severus looked up and gave a small smile—the one he allowed only Harry to see—and said, "Luckily, what is weakened by the bond can be made strong by the bond." He stood up on legs that were far steadier than they had been a moment ago and took Harry in his arms, his strength returning to him.

"I still don't like it," Harry grumbled against his neck. "It's not fair to you."

Severus sighed and smirked against his hair. "And if it were the other way around? If it was my destiny to kill the Dark Lord and you were the one to give me the strength to do it?"

"That's different."

Severus pulled Harry back just enough to kiss him gently. "No, it would be exactly the same, only you would be the one suffering and I would be the one drowning in guilt."

Harry shuddered, then frowned. "Yeah. No more drowning in guilt for you."

"I feel fine," Severus assured him. And he did, though the defensive spells Harry practiced here would be nothing compared to what he would cast on the Dark Lord in battle. Thoughts of what he might be forced to give up threatened to come to the forefront of his mind, but he thrust them back. Severus was determined to keep what he feared would happen to himself, until the very end. Harry had to defeat the Dark Lord with Severus' shared power, a feat that would be impossible if he were made aware of what could happen.

All things considered, his simple, little life would be a small price to pay to see Harry—and the rest of the world, he supposed—safe.

"Maybe we should stop for the night?" Harry asked hopefully, and Severus saw the slight leer in his eyes and watched as he nearly bounced in anticipation.

"That's probably a good idea," Severus said, slightly amused at the prospect of bursting Harry's bubble. "There's a full moon in a week, and I believe there's something Lupin will be wanting soon."

Sure enough, Harry deflated comically and Severus had to hold back his smirk.

"Okay," Harry said, his leer returning as quickly as it had gone. "You go and work up an exhaustion in your lab, and I'll be the one to take care of you tonight."

Severus stilled at Harry's implication, revealing his hesitation for only an instant, but still Harry picked up on it.

With a sigh, Harry looked up at him. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Severus said and silently requested a door to his quarters. His arm still wrapped around Harry's shoulder, he began to walk towards it when it appeared, hoping Harry would take the hint and allow the subject to drop.

"Is there something I'm not getting?" Harry asked. Severus sighed and rubbed his temples with his free hand. There was little point in hoping Harry would ever take a hint at anything.

"What exactly are you referring to?" he asked though they both knew exactly what topic Severus was trying to avoid.

"Is there some gay etiquette I'm not aware of or something?" Harry asked as they walked into their sitting room. "I mean, I like being on the bottom—really, I do—but every time I bring up switching it around you get...weird about it."

Severus grumbled under his breath and released Harry, going to turn up the fire to drive out the November chill.

"So is there something?" Harry asked while Severus was turned away from him. "Some rule I don't know?"

Sighing yet again, Severus said in a low voice, "No. Not between the two of us, at least."

Harry walked into his line of sight and nodded, then said slowly, "So...why don't you want to?"

That was an excellent question, Severus thought. When Harry had first broached the topic in passing, they'd been in bed together, with Severus more relaxed and sated than he'd been...well, ever really. He hadn't minded the idea then. But with each passing day—and night—as Harry had continued asking about switching their roles in bed, Severus grew more reticent.

The truth was he had no good reason to be so hesitant. True, it had been nearly twenty years since he'd experienced that particular pleasure, and his last foray had contained a bit more pain than delight. But Severus realized that was most likely due to the age and inexperience of his companion...what was his name?

And while Harry was inexperienced in this particular aspect of lovemaking, he'd shown boundless enthusiasm to learn everything Severus had shown him and had an innate generosity that Severus should've taken advantage of by now.

"Hey," said Harry, as warm hands reached up to brush a stray hair from his face, "don't do that."

"What?" Severus grumbled, not looking down.

"Don't go somewhere I can't follow," he pleaded softly, so Severus was forced to look down. Sad, tired eyes looked up at him, and Severus chastised himself for allowing something so ridiculous to come between them.

Though no surer than he'd been a moment ago, Severus resolved to give Harry anything he wanted. Chalking up his reluctance to the idiocy that it was, he smirked and said, "Well, I am rather tired. I suppose I could allow _you_ to do all the work for once."

_Enthusiasm_

_Desire_

"Oh, shut up," Harry said as they began to walk towards Severus' lab. "I give as good as I get, and you know it."

"I'll remind you of that the next time you want me to lavish attention on you for—"

Severus was cut off just as they entered his potions lab, Harry possessively pushing him against a wall, running his hands down his thighs until they found his cock, which began growing rapidly.

"Severus," he breathed, his borrowed smirk sending a chill of anticipation down Severus' spine. "I'm going to fuck you so hard tonight—"

"Ahem." Someone cleared his throat and Severus watched as Harry's eyes mirrored his own in horror.

They both turned their heads and witnessed Lupin—his face red, but his eyes amused—valiantly trying to hold back his laughter.

"I'm terribly sorry to interrupt, Harry," he said, and Severus glared as he watched Lupin's facial muscles spasm as they held back what would've surely been a throaty laugh.

_Embarrassment_

_Awkwardness_

Turning away from Lupin, Severus watched as Harry cautiously met his eyes, a stream of unspoken apologies making themselves heard. He opened his mouth and Severus almost smirked as nothing came out but a squeak. Quickly, Harry whirled around to face Lupin and Severus knew this wasn't going to end well.

"We weren't going to have sex right now!" Harry exclaimed, stammering, and Severus noticed Lupin struggled even more to hold back his laughter. "I mean, we _wouldn't_ have sex right now...or here!"

Lupin put a hand over his mouth, but Severus could see his smile widen as the wrinkles around his eyes deepened.

"There are...potions...everywhere, and...it wouldn't be safe!" Harry stopped and took a good look around the room, "And probably really uncomfortable."

"Harry..." Severus broke in, trying to save him from making a bigger arse of himself.

"And I really can't imagine Severus bent over a desk..."

"Right, that's enough, Harry," Lupin said, coming to both their rescues. Harry finally shut his mouth and Severus struggled not to rub his temples as he felt a headache coming on.

"Perhaps there's some homework that needs to be done?" Severus suggested, motioning towards the door from whence they came. Harry took the hint and—with a smile to Lupin and a pleading look to Severus—bolted out the door as though hell were chasing him.

As soon as the door closed, Severus spun around and said, "If you say one word—"

"I wasn't going to," Lupin said, putting up a hand and walking closer to a table that held a bubbling cauldron. "Really, I have no desire...at all." He cleared his throat and Severus was glad he wasn't the only one left embarrassed. "Although..." Lupin began again, causing a sneer to appear on Severus' face. Lupin ignored it and, with a smile, continued, "It is good to see the two of you so happy. Especially now."

Ignoring the sentimentality that was beginning to seep into Lupin's tone, Severus turned to the cauldron, which held the base for that day's batch of wolfsbane potion, and began his work.

"You do realize your presence isn't required in order for the potion to work?"

He could almost hear Lupin smile, even as he began to chop the aconite.

"I'm being serious, Severus. After everything that's happened, after all you've been through, it's a relief to see the two of you happy."

Severus scoffed, revealing his thoughts on how little Lupin cared about his happiness.

"You're both my friends—"

"_We_," Severus interrupted, "are not friends."

Lupin smiled again and sat down on a stool. "This argument would almost be amusing if it wasn't so very sad."

Severus sighed and began to stir in the aconite, wishing he could hex Lupin into leaving or, at the very least, wipe that smug smile from his face.

Suddenly a thought occurred to him.

"Well, then," he said, adopting his most sadistic grin, "_friend_." He watched with satisfaction as Lupin's smile faded. "I couldn't help but notice your dinner companion for the past week."

Lupin seemed to pale at that so Severus continued. "Is there anything of interest happening between you and Miss Tonks?"

Lupin rallied himself and put on a false smile. "She's a nice girl. She's an Auror and makes interesting dinner conversation, which is always pleasant."

Severus hummed. "Oh, is that all? She always seems to stumble more than usual when you're around."

"Oh, I'm sure that's not true—"

"The state of your robes after dessert last night says something different." Amused that he was finally able to turn the tables and shine a bright light on the state of Lupin's love life, Severus pursued the topic further. "She always has stars in her eyes when you walk into the room. Surely you've noticed?"

"She's a nice girl," Lupin repeated flatly, clearly hoping the subject would be dropped. "There's nothing else to it."

"Oh?" Severus asked, beyond pleased with how the conversation was turning. "And why is that? She _is_ a girl, after all. She's...intelligent enough. She's not incredibly difficult to look at." Deciding to test the waters, Severus said, "In fact, if you didn't like the look of her, you could always ask—"

"Severus!" Lupin interrupted and Severus nearly chuckled at the reaction. "That's not very kind."

"Neither am I. Lupin," he continued, "the girl's clearly interested in you. I can't see any reason why you wouldn't pursue...something."

"No reason?" Lupin asked, flummoxed. "Aside from the fact that she's ten years younger than me?"

The amused grin left Severus' face immediately and he scowled at the implication.

Lupin, for his part, seemed no more pleased by his slip than Severus. "You and Harry are completely different. Or Harry's different, at the very least. Nymphadora—"

"Oh, Nymphadora is it?" The smug grin was back on Severus' face. Really, it was too wonderful to be able to needle beneath Lupin's skin for a change.

Lupin sighed and scuffed up the back of his hair, and Severus noticed the gray was becoming far more prevalent. "For all her experience as an Auror...she seems a very young twenty-eight. If I stopped to think about it, I really couldn't see it working out."

For all that Lupin had spent so long trying to talk him into hope, it seemed the man had none for himself. Severus warred with appearing to give a damn when he really didn't with the continuing desire to meddle where he wasn't welcome.

He hated Lupin, that much was certain. Even if he forgave everything from their youth, which he didn't, Lupin was annoyingly cheerful and a hindrance. He constantly smiled at him in hallways and never let an opportunity slip by to make mindless chatter. And there were several times in the last few months where Severus had seriously considered poisoning him.

Sighing as he stirred the cauldron in silence, Severus' thoughts turned to Harry, as they often did these days. Harry cared for Lupin, that much he knew for certain. And while he had no use for friends, Severus knew enough about loving a person to know that cursing their friends was off-limits.

And it would probably make Harry happy to see Lupin happy.

A quiet groan escaped Severus' throat before he could help himself. Cursing himself for what he was about to do, Severus finished his stirring and turned to look at Lupin.

"You don't have to marry the girl."

"What?" Lupin asked, confused.

"Talk to her. See if you have something in common besides being an annoyance to everyone you come across and perhaps she'll surprise you."

Shaking his head, Lupin said, "I'm not sure I'm willing to go down that road again."

Frustrated that his beyond-generous attempt at kindness wasn't being accepted, Severus turned to Lupin with a scowl. "Dinner!" he said, nearly shouting. "Or a drink. You don't have give her your heart on a platter on the first date, man. But here is a girl who's actually interested in you, a _nice_ girl with nothing outwardly wrong with her and you're making it seem as though you have to decide on marriage at the first date."

At Lupin's confused look, Severus deflated and said, "You're an idiot. You're so concerned with the lives of others, yet you don't give a damn about your own." Looking down into the simmering cauldron, Severus thought of Harry and asked, "Do you really want to be alone for the rest of your life?"

There was silence for a moment and Severus looked up only to see a smile gracing Lupin's face.

"Why, Severus, I didn't know you cared."

"I don't," he said quickly, turning to the cauldron and thinking all of that had only been in aid of Harry. "I simply find it amusing meddling in your love life when you had no problem meddling in mine."

The silence grew again and Severus could only allow himself to be distracted with a cauldron for so long. Forcing himself to look up, he saw Lupin's smile had only grown larger.

"Shut up," he said angrily. At Lupin's quiet laugh, he coughed and wondered when he'd lost control over the situation.

After that, they sat in a silence Severus was forced to admit was companionable as the potion brewed, the only sound the scuffling of their shoes and the faint noises from the students as they made their way to the common room. A few minutes later, he felt a great surge of guilt flow through the bond from Harry, then a terrible sadness. He paused, but when no sense of alarm or distress came, he forced himself not to act, thinking he'd find out what had happened later.

Finally, the potion began to emit the blue smoke that meant it was ready, and if Severus was quicker than usual to give it over to Lupin, neither of them said anything.

The grimace Lupin gave at swallowing the foul thing gave Severus none of its usual pleasure, and he silently took back the cup and accepted Lupin's thanks. Suddenly the guilt he'd felt from Harry before washed away, leaving a sense of contentment and happiness. Breathing a sigh of relief that whatever had happened had quickly been resolved, Severus forced his mind back to his duties and began to clean.

Thoughts of Harry swirling in his head combined with Lupin's presence only served to bring about thoughts of the recent past, of debts that were owed. And as much as he hated to admit it, Severus would acknowledge this debt. Resigned, he closed his eyes and steeled himself for something he'd put off for far too long.

"Lupin," he said, his back turned.

He listened as Lupin stopped at the door without opening it, his tone curious as he asked, "Yes, Severus?"

"I never thanked you." Severus refused to turn around and said nothing else, simply continuing his cleaning. A moment passed and Lupin must have realized no further explanation was forthcoming.

Sighing at the subject he'd reopened and the speech he was no doubt about to be subjected to, Severus turned, Lupin's expression indecipherable. A moment passed between them, Severus meeting Lupin's eyes as they seemed to take stock of him. Finally, Lupin nodded and gave a small smile.

"You're welcome. And I'd do it all again to see you both this happy."

And then Lupin left, leaving Severus with an oddly warm feeling. He shrugged it off as something Harry was no doubt giving him through the bond and continued cleaning in silence.

*

Shaking off his humiliation, Harry slipped out of Severus' quarters quietly, careful to make sure no one saw him leave, then turned towards the stairs that led out of the dungeons. It was before curfew and their shortened day had left him feeling restless. His mind was turning over his latest training session with Severus, and no matter how it might be justified, he still couldn't shake the guilt that plagued him.

Severus was right, he knew that. He wasn't hurting him permanently, and he knew it _was_ necessary... But if these little defensive spells were causing damage what would casting the killing curse mean?

Sighing, Harry shook off his suspicions. Surely Severus would be worried if there was something wrong. And Dumbledore would never approve of anything that would seriously harm him, not even in the name of the war effort. No, he thought, worrying about this wouldn't help anything.

Reaching the ground floor, he hid behind a suit of armor as a few sixth years passed him by, not wanting to be seen. He'd spent the last week going from classes to the Great Hall and then training with Severus, with no room for his friends in between. And while he was happy in the dungeons, and really didn't want to leave, there were a few people he missed something fierce.

The conversation he'd promised Hermione just hadn't happened, and poor Neville had finally stopped casting him curious looks at the Gryffindor table. He was glad the story and reason behind his disappearance had been accepted, but it did nothing to stop him from feeling guilty whenever he thought of his friends.

He paused as he passed the Entrance Hall, wrapping his student robe around him tighter and contemplating braving the chill. Pacing the stones a few times, thoughts of the war plaguing him, his feet made the decision for him and he went out into the cold.

It was just what he needed, he thought, as he began to walk the grounds. He wouldn't go any further than the lake, he reasoned, and noticed that Hagrid was outside his hut, playing with Fang. Feeling secure, he put his hands in his pockets and began to walk towards a line of trees he thought might be nice to sit beneath.

As he approached, he noticed someone had beaten him to it, then paused as he noticed who it was.

Underneath a grove of sycamores, Hermione sat with a book in her lap, though even from this distance Harry could tell she wasn't reading it. His first instinct was to turn away quickly, but he stopped himself. Here was his chance, he thought. A chance to talk to her, to maybe make things right between them again. He had so few true friends, and though he loved Severus, as he stood there watching her, he realized how much he had missed her.

Slowly, he began to walk towards her, his heart beating madly in his chest, thinking he couldn't understand why he was so nervous. She looked up as she heard his steps, her face curious before she lowered it back down to her book.

Sitting down next to her, Harry prepared himself for what was sure to be one of the most awkward conversations of his life.

"Hi," he said lamely, not knowing what else to say.

"Hello," she said, her voice soft and her eyes turned towards the lake. The silence stretched between them, each second twisting in awkward agony as Harry struggled with what to say to her.

He was saved from having to come up with anything as Hermione said, "You've been avoiding me."

Harry's heart beat madly in his chest. She'd said it plainly, with no accusation in her voice, and somehow that made it worse. It would've been far better if she'd been angry, he thought.

"I have, yeah."

"Why?" she asked, then turned to him.

Opening his mouth to respond, Harry shut it immediately. He had no idea what to say. He could say that he felt guilty that he'd gotten over Ron's death so quickly and she hadn't. He could tell her all about what'd happened with Severus, how miserable he was and how alone. He could tell her that they really _had_ been training and that took up the little free time he had.

But those were all excuses. The real reason was something far worse.

"I don't know," he said, not knowing how to address the issue at hand. "I know it started because of Ron. Because...well, I was with Severus in the summer and...and he really helped me to deal with what happened. And then you came back and there were so many other things going on..." He trailed off as he noticed her glare.

She was quiet for a moment and Harry saw her features twist in anger. "And instead of talking to me, instead of telling me about this _enormous_ thing that was happening in your life, you decided to...just push me away? Like I was nothing, like we hadn't been friends for six years?"

Harry flinched as though he'd been hit and he lowered his head. He hadn't expected her to say it so harshly, so plainly, and he realized how long he'd kept her waiting.

"I guess I owe you an apology."

"You don't _owe_ me anything," she snapped. "You're supposed to be my friend. You're supposed to _want_ to tell me what's happening in your life. And if you don't—"

"No," Harry interrupted. "I do. I'm sorry, Hermione. I'm so sorry." And he was, and he felt like an idiot for leaving this for so long. Resolving to tell her the truth, Harry steeled himself and shifted closer to her on the ground.

"I was happy." She looked up at him and frowned, her confusion apparent, so he continued to try to explain. "I was happy in the summer...with Severus. We...were friends. It was great," he said with a smile that graced his face of its own volition. "I was happy...and you weren't. And I really didn't know what to do. You were so miserable and I wasn't."

The look in her eyes told Harry she'd understood. Turning to look at the lake again, she seemed to digest what he'd told her, both of them sitting in silence.

"And instead of telling me and hoping I'd take the horror of my friend being happy well, you decided to completely ignore me?"

"It sounds really stupid when you say it like that," Harry said, but his humor fell flat. "I was stupid," he said plainly, attempting to accept responsibility for his actions. "I was so stupid."

"I'm so angry with you," she said softly. "I wasn't at first. I was so confused I didn't know what to do. For a while I thought—well, you know what I thought."

Harry nodded, thinking of that awkward encounter and a kiss denied, but stayed quiet, allowing her to speak her mind.

"And then you were hurt. And then..._he_ was there." Her voice shook as her words flowed out of her like a fountain. "This man, this man that the last I'd heard was a monster to you. This man you _hated_, who had helped you and helped us and he was there and... There was no room for me anymore! What was I doing there in the infirmary? What right did I have? I wasn't your friend, not anymore—"

"Yes, you were. You are," he said, grabbing hold of her hand as she wept angry tears.

She shook her head. "It wasn't fair to me. All of these things going on and you just leaving me behind!" Her tears were flowing quickly now, Harry putting an arm over her shoulder, relieved when she didn't shrug it off. "_Severus Snape_?" she exclaimed, as though the name were a question and an accusation at the same time. From her point of view, Harry supposed it was. Remus had been there during the summer, had seen Harry through his suffering, but he'd blocked Hermione out at every turn. How could he expect her to understand?

"I'm sorry," he repeated, not knowing what else to say. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Well," she said, her tears slowing, "you did."

Closing his eyes, he held her closer and tried to think of something to say, something that could make this better.

"I didn't mean..." but he stopped himself before he could dig himself in any deeper. It didn't matter if he'd meant to hurt her or not. "I didn't know what to do, so I didn't do anything. I hurt you and I'm sorry, and if you'd let me, I promise I'll make it up to you."

She sniffed and contemplated the water, the silence torturing Harry as his heart twisted.

"Apologize again," she said, not looking at him.

His heart heavy, he held her closer and said, "I'm sorry."

She sniffed again and wiped her eyes with a sleeve. "Promise you'll never do it again."

"I won't. Ever. I promise."

She nodded and smiled, before turning to him, her eyes tearing anew. "I missed you so much," she cried, wrapping her arms around him and sobbing into his shirt. Holding her closely, he closed his own eyes and felt a weight he'd ignored for far too long leave him.

He held her for a few more moments before she pulled away, her soft smile still not reaching her eyes. They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes before she said, "You have no idea how odd it was, sitting there holding your hand, and all of a sudden Professor Snape walks into the room." She looked up at him and gave a playful grin. "You should've seen the way he was looking at you."

Remembering all the hell Severus had put them through, Harry didn't have a hard time imagining it. "Yeah," he said plainly.

"All right," she started, then took a deep breath. "I only want to say this once. Just this one time and then I promise I'll listen and be completely objective."

Giving an exaggerated sigh, Hermione poked him in the ribs before she became serious. "Severus Snape, Harry?"

"Yeah," he said, his thoughts turning to Severus. "Severus Snape."

Hermione nodded, then said, "He's a teacher."

"I know."

She nodded again, then said, "He's twenty years older than you. He went to school with your parents and...he's not the nicest person."

"He's not, no," Harry admitted, though his thoughts strayed to last night and how Severus had kissed him after they made love, then this morning when he woke to the familiar feel of Severus' arms. "But he is to me."

They were quiet for a moment before Hermione nodded.

"You sure you're done?" Harry asked.

"I'm sure, yes."

"Really? Because I completely understand if you want to get one more in—"

"Shut up," she said with a smile. "He loves you, you know? It was so strange seeing someone so severe and...harsh looking at someone the way he was looking at you."

"I know."

"So...how serious is it?"

Taking a deep breath, Harry jumped in with both feet. "We're bonded...for life."

Hermione's eyes widened comically and Harry watched as she struggled to find her voice.

"So...fairly serious then?"

Harry laughed and put an arm around her again, then became distracted for a moment when he felt a surge of contentment, for the first time unsure if it came from Severus or himself.

"Harry?"

"Yeah," he said, returning to the conversation.

"You'll tell me how all this happened? What's going on now?"

"You want the long version or the short version?"

She cast _Tempus_ and asked, "Medium?"

He chuckled and cast a privacy charm, thinking Severus would be proud he'd finally become so cautious. With a warm feeling in the back of his mind, he began to tell the story.

*

"Oh, fuck!" Harry exclaimed as he pushed into Severus, sweat pouring off his brow. "I'm gonna come."

"Come now, and it will be the last thing you ever do!" Severus bit out the words between groans as Harry shifted inside him, all his petty fears and hesitations gone. At the moment he couldn't reason why he'd ever want to turn this pleasure down. It had been so long since he'd experienced it, and never with a partner who truly cared about his enjoyment...

"Stop!" Harry growled, putting his hands over Severus' hips to still him. "You're so _tight_ and I swear—"

"Think cold thoughts, Potter!"

"You think loose thoughts, then!"

Growling, Severus laid back against the pillows, wanting nothing more than to grab Harry's hips with his ankles and force him to move. He was going to enjoy this, damn it, and no adolescent hormones would impede him.

"Picture Albus naked," he said, thinking he'd probably find the horror that crossed Harry's face at that statement humorous later. "On a cold day."

"What?" Harry exclaimed, and Severus moved his hips experimentally in his distraction.

"Yes," he hissed as the slight burn traveled up his hips. "Distract yourself and fuck me." He threw his head back and edged a hand between them, dragging the skin of both their stomachs as he reached to grab his own cock to ease the pain. After a few pulls, he could feel himself opening up for Harry's cock, could feel it sliding in deeper.

"Wait—I should—" Harry panted, and then his face took on a look of bewilderment, as his brain attempted to fathom how he could handle Severus' cock and hold his body up at the same time.

Severus threw him a scathing look and began to pump his cock again.

"I—" Harry started, then cut off as he pulled out of Severus and then thrust in again, a grunt pulled from him as he changed the angle of his hips to find Severus' prostate.

"Yes!" Severus cried out a moment later. "Right there! Just right there—shit!" He prayed to whichever gods were listening that Harry would find it again.

"Fuck, you feel so good—"

Knowing this first time wouldn't last long, Severus closed his eyes and enjoyed what he'd long denied himself. His body trembled as Harry found a rhythm, his strokes unskilled and hardly certain, but every thrust colliding with Severus' prostate. A shaking, unsteady hand tried to wrap around his cock a few moments later, making Severus growl, "Fuck off! I can do—yes, Harry!" as they moved together, Severus' thighs parting impossibly further at the force of his thrusts. Pressing himself against the pillows, Severus clenched his arse muscles around Harry's cock and allowed a gasp of ecstasy to slip out of him as Harry rammed into him with a shout.

He hissed at the sensation of Harry slipping out, then dug his nails into Harry's shoulder to voice his displeasure. Harry's eyes met his, looking so incredibly open—so sure where Severus knew he hadn't been a moment before—and then his head fell forward, his mouth enveloping Severus' cock without hesitation.

Oh, thank Merlin!

Severus' hips jerked involuntarily when Harry's tongue and mouth pulled his orgasm from him, pleasure coursing through every muscle in his body as Harry rapidly swallowed his come.

Sated in a way he'd never felt before, Severus gathered Harry in his arms and held him close, the sound of them catching their breath the only one to be heard in the quietness of the room.

"That was..."

"Mmm," Severus replied, ready to allow sleep to claim him if it weren't for Harry's jostling.

"Severus... " Harry asked reluctantly, and Severus smirked as he predicted what would follow. "How was—was I any—"

"You were fine, Harry," he said and stroked his hair absent-mindedly. "It was perfect."

"I'm sorry I didn't last very long," Harry said, then, hesitantly, "I'm sure I'll last longer with more practice."

Smirking, Severus arched his back, savoring the pleasant ache, and said, "Yes, I'm sure you will."

That seemed to satisfy Harry for a moment before he was shifting in Severus' arms again, pawing at him and kissing him when Severus only wanted to sleep.

Opening an eye, he glared at Harry before he saw the smile on his face.

"Oh, Merlin."

"What?"

"Hmph," he grunted, amused. "I bet you're very pleased with yourself."

"No more pleased than you were—"

"Oh, shut it. It's late," Severus said half-heartedly.

Harry kissed his face again, and said, "I'm not tired. I feel...energized, I guess."

"Liar," Severus said affectionately. "You feel ten feet tall."

Scoffing, Harry settled back against the pillows. "I'd settle for six any day."

Opening his eyes again, Severus looked up at the ceiling, suddenly deep in though. "Does it really bother you? I thought you were of the opinion that there were benefits to your height."

He felt Harry shrug against him, then he said, "It's fine. I'm used to it." He burrowed into Severus' arms and said, "And it does have its benefits."

Mentally considering Harry's age and his own skills, Severus hesitantly offered, "There might be a strong nutritive potion that may help...slightly."

Soft hair grazed Severus' cheek and he could feel Harry's cautious optimism. "Really?"

"_Very_ slightly, but...we can try."

"Thank you," Harry said, putting his head back down on Severus' chest. Strong arms embraced him and he felt Harry's mouth turn up in a smile against his neck. "Even if nothing happens...thank you, Severus."

Hardly knowing what to say to such gratitude, Severus kissed his forehead and contemplated the ceiling again. Awake now, he turned to Harry and asked, "So what was it that happened tonight? You were upset."

"I finally talked with Hermione," Harry said plainly, and Severus waited for an explanation that didn't come.

"And it went well?" he asked, trying to ascertain what exactly had happened.

"She was angry with me," Harry said, his fingers dancing across Severus' chest. "But she had every right to be. Forgave me in the end, though."

"Good."

"And you? Did something happen with Remus?"

"I made his potion, he drank it and left."

Severus could almost feel Harry's frown. "But you were upset."

"Well, he did smile at me."

"That bastard."

"Indeed."

They were quiet again, but Severus could hardly be fooled by Harry's fidgeting, and he knew there was a conversation lurking in a corner somewhere, dying to be let out.

"How did she react when you told her?"

The fidgeting stopped and Harry fingers began their hesitant dance over Severus' chest again. "She was great about it, actually." At Severus scoff, he insisted, "No, really. I mean, yeah she had a few reservations at first—oh, shut up! She had a few things to say that made total sense to someone who had no idea what was going on and then she listened. It was..."

He drifted off and burrowed further into the space between Severus neck and hair, quiet now, but Severus could almost hear his thoughts as they came to him.

Saying nothing, Severus held him closer, giving him the time he needed to collect himself.

"I put it off for far too long," Harry said. "I'm just relieved to have her back. I didn't realize how much I missed her until I tonight."

Severus nodded and stroked his hair. "I'm glad. You'll need your friends around you when—"

"Don't!" Harry said suddenly, interrupting Severus. "Please, just...don't. It's all we talk about every day. If we're not in class, then we're in training, and..." he drifted off, then sat up, hovering over Severus and looking him in the eye. "Can we not talk about that here? When it's just the two of us? Please?"

Severus hardly saw the point in not discussing what was on both their minds, but he nodded and said, "As you wish." Harry gave a soft smile that didn't reach his eyes before he lay down on Severus' chest again. They laid together in the quiet, Severus knowing both their minds were wandering over what was to come, but for now content to rest safely in each other's arms.


	35. The Turn

Thanks to Torina for an excellent beta and to WhiteCotton for helping me plan out this chapter some months ago (before GC fic) so I wouldn't forget everything.

This is it, everyone! We're in the home stretch. I've told my beta to forbid me from participating in any other fests until P&C is finished. My goal is to have a chapter out every two weeks, and I think it's attainable.

Thank you to everyone who's stuck around all this time. Your patience is astounding.

* * *

"Heroes know that things must happen when it is time for them to happen. A quest may not simply be abandoned; unicorns may go unrescued for a long time, but not forever; a happy ending cannot come in the middle of the story." Peter S. Beagle

"Again!"

The attack was brutal this time, and Harry struggled to defend himself against Dumbledore and Remus; each of them were advancing on him without mercy, as though their sparring really was a life-or-death battle.

They'd been dueling for hours and Harry felt his body tiring, sweat pouring off his brow and his muscles aching. Using all of the arcane shields Severus had taught him he defended himself well enough, but was hesitant to attack. He knew what Dumbledore wanted him to do, knew what he had to do, but he held off with each new attack for as long as possible, waiting until the very last second before he borrowed power from Severus. He fired off his strongest hexes and some weaker curses at Remus, then defended himself from Dumbledore. He felt Severus through the bond, knew the sparring had drained him far worse than he'd ever been drained while practicing in the Room of Requirement, and hated what he had to do.

When Remus made a mistake and left himself open for attack Harry felt for the bond, the cord that ran between him and Severus opening with practiced ease now, and blasted Remus against the wall of the cleared Potions classroom.

With one attacker down, Harry stepped up his attack on Dumbledore. Though Harry had always known that Dumbledore was the most powerful wizard alive, that fact had been made obvious to him in these sparring matches. The power with which Dumbledore attacked him was frightening, and Harry had to use all his strength just to defend himself. The few times he'd been able to cast his own spells had been ineffective, Dumbledore's shielding being far stronger than anything Harry had ever experienced.

His entire body ached and he could feel Severus' attention on him, wanting him to push harder, wanting him to be ready for what was to come. With an apology on his lips he stepped up his attack, Severus' power flowing through him and renewing his energy, allowing his body to do what he'd been too exhausted to do before.

Through red spell light Harry saw Dumbledore give a dark smile as he stepped up his attack. Harry cursed under his breath, not wanting to use any more of Severus' power than he had to and hating that Dumbledore was forcing him to do so now.

And though he loathed to take anything from Severus, Harry—staring down the most powerful wizard alive—now realized that Dumbledore had been right. He would need the bond to win his fight against Voldemort.

Dumbledore advanced and Harry used every spell in his arsenal to try to penetrate his shields, but nothing got through. He could feel Severus in the other room, weaker and in need of him, but the bond was humming in the back of his mind, reminding Harry that it was made for times like these. He silently apologized to Severus, then opened the bond to take what he needed to blast through Dumbledore's shields.

He could feel Severus yielding to him, feel him gladly giving up his own power to aid Harry. The bond opened for him, stronger than it ever had been before, as Harry cast _Bombarda_ and blasted Dumbledore off his feet.

And though he had known what he was capable of with Severus' borrowed power, Harry still stood amazed at the image of Dumbledore on the floor, panting.

"Good, Harry. Very good," he said, and Harry rushed to help him to his feet. "Much, much better. You took more from Severus that time, didn't you?"

Harry closed his eyes as the bond vibrated through him. It was so much stronger than it had been, so open now that it knew Harry had true need of it, that it felt as though Severus was next to him, _inside him_, and Harry was nearly overwhelmed.

Barely casting a glance to make sure Remus was all right, he nodded, then said, "I have to go to Severus."

"Severus can wait a moment," Dumbledore said, "I want to test—"

"Later," Harry said, already opening the door to Severus' office and then walking through the door to their sitting room. He hardly cared if Dumbledore or Remus followed him. All he knew was that he had taken so much from Severus this time, more than he'd ever taken before. He needed to give that back to him now.

He walked through their sitting room, but Severus wasn't in his chair. Walking closer to the bedroom, he turned as he saw a dark figure curled up on the sofa.

"Severus," he breathed, frightened now that he saw Severus so weak.

"I'm fine," he mumbled, as though he had to force the words out. Harry sat on the edge of the sofa and put his arms around him, letting his cheek touch Severus' to give him as much physical contact as possible. "Harry, I'm fine. You did well."

"You call this doing well?" Harry asked, hating what he'd done, and hating even more that it had been necessary.

"Extremely well," Dumbledore said from behind him. He looked down on Severus as though it was completely normal to find him curled up on the sofa in front of people. "He was finally able to penetrate my shields."

"Excellent," Severus said, his voice still weak. "This is good news."

Remaining silent, Harry struggled to lift Severus enough to sit underneath his head and shoulders, letting his face touch Severus', their hands clasped together.

"I'll be fine, Harry," Severus said, though Harry could hear the soft sigh as he began to recover, the bond giving back what it had taken. The sparring had left Severus so weak he didn't bother to demand Dumbledore and Remus leave the room, as Harry knew he would have if he were capable. That alone left Harry feeling miserable and shattered.

"Harry," Remus said from behind Dumbledore, and Harry looked up through the corner of his eye. "This is what we've been waiting for. You don't have anything to feel guilty about. This bond between you and Severus is what's going to end this war."

"I know, just—" He sat up straight and looked at Dumbledore and Remus. Both panting and sweating, Remus with a terrible cut across his cheek that Harry knew he'd given him with that last hex. "I think that's enough for tonight."

Nodding, Dumbledore laid a hand on Severus' sleeve and said, "We'll rest for a day, then try again. And next time, Harry, I don't want you to hold back as much. Severus is stronger than you think he is."

Severus grumbled something weakly that Harry didn't catch before closing his eyes and leaning into Harry's chest.

"I know," Harry said, gripping Severus' hand tighter, feeling the bond tug at him, telling what he already knew: Severus needed him. "Believe me, I know. Just...later, okay?"

Dumbledore nodded again, and he and Remus left the room.

Harry all but pounced on Severus.

"I'm so sorry!" he cried, fiddling with the buttons on Severus' robes and then his shirt until he found bare flesh, then removed his own shirt to touch as much of Severus as possible. "I didn't want to do it, but Dumbledore just wouldn't stop."

"Shh," Severus said, his hand coming up to brush through Harry's hair, shaking only slightly. The hand in his hair grasped his head weakly, and Severus gave a sigh of content. "Be quiet for a moment and feel this with me."

"Feel what?" Harry asked. "I took too much from you, and now—."

"No, Harry," Severus said, "not that. Be quiet. I don't want you to miss this because you were too busy being an idiot."

"Hey!"

"Shh..."

With a firmer hand, Severus pulled Harry's head to lay across his chest, their skin-to-skin contact just what Harry knew he needed right now. Closing his eyes, he began to feel the bond respond to what Severus needed, to give back what was taken.

It was when Severus gasped that Harry finally felt it.

His eyes closed and a heavy sensation ran through Harry, a feeling of elation and near euphoria. He felt the bond between them open in its entirety, the conduit of power flowing freely between them, more than it ever had before.

It was as though his power wasn't his own anymore. With the bond open, Harry felt as though everything he was belonged not only to him, but also to Severus. Together, they were the most powerful wizard alive, more powerful than Dumbledore, more powerful than Voldemort.

Harry gasped and grasped Severus' hand harder as felt Severus' power move through him as though it was his own, and his power into Severus. It was like grasping hold of omnipotence, and he knew Severus was feeling the exact same way.

"Why does it feel that way?" he asked into Severus' chest. "What is this?"

"The bond has finally realized its full potential. It's...happy."

Harry leaned up and frowned. "The bond can be happy?"

Scoffing, Severus pushed Harry's face down upon his chest again. "The bond is a living magical entity that connects the two of us. When we were apart, didn't you feel the pain of separation as an almost physical sensation? Did you not feel an unending urge to go to me?"

More than a little irritated, Harry bit the nearest skin he could find and said, "You know I did. Bastard."

Severus' hand stroked his hair again in apology. "Yes, I know. You felt that because the bond wanted us to be together; it needed us to be together in order for it to mature. It has now, and so this is the outcome."

Closing his eyes again, Harry allowed himself to feel what was between them—to feel Severus' happiness and pride, to feel this unnamed contentment that he now knew was the bond reaching its maturity. It vibrated between the two of them, and Harry had never felt as close to Severus as he did in that moment.

"It feels like it's dancing," Harry said into the silence.

"It was made for times such as these. It can do what it was created to do now." Opening his eyes, Severus looked down and met Harry's. "You will fight him, and you will win. Of this I'm sure."

Harry paused and thought back to a moment a few weeks ago, when he and Severus had first emerged from their bedroom after days of solitude. It had seemed so impossible then. The idea that he could fight the most powerful dark wizard alive and win was something that couldn't happen, and no amount of Severus' faith could convince him.

But lying here now, feeling Severus' power mingle with his own...

"It's not just me that's going to face him. It'll be you, too. I couldn't do it on my own."

Severus squeezed him in response, then said, "You won't have to."

The bond sung between them as they lay in silence, Severus regaining his strength and Harry enjoying the peace after a long day of classes and fighting.

He let his fingers dance across Severus' chest as he thought about his sparring session with Dumbledore and Remus, how he felt more prepared and ready than he ever had before. But being prepared was one thing. Actually fighting was something else.

"When is it going to happen?"

Severus was silent for a few moments, only responding when Harry began to fidget. "I don't know."

"I still think I should go out and face him," Harry said, turning his head on Severus' chest so he could look into the fire in the hearth. "How else is all this going to end?"

The arms holding him pulled him tighter. "You won't face him alone. Not like that, Harry." Severus sighed and Harry felt his worry. "We'll think of something."

"But what? What is there to think of? Voldemort is just going to keep destroying whatever he can until I go out and face him. I don't know what else to do."

"Not that. We'll think of something, but you will not go out to face him alone. Now, I'm tired. Let's go to bed."

Harry nodded and sat up, helping Severus to his feet, though he seemed much stronger now than he had when Harry had first come into the room. They lay down together, shucking off their trousers quickly before getting under the covers.

Harry kissed Severus goodnight and took him in his arms, listening as his breathing evened out almost as soon as his head hit Harry's chest. With Severus asleep, Harry allowed himself to think of what could be done, of any kind of plan that would allow him to engage Voldemort. He kept his eyes open in the darkness, gently stroking Severus' hair as his mind ran through a hundred different plans and disposed of them just as quickly.

There had to be something they hadn't thought of yet. Something that would bring all of this to end, to stop forcing Harry to hurt Severus when all he wanted to do was live. Live in a way neither of them had before. Severus made a low moan and burrowed further into Harry's arms, and Harry gripped him tighter in the darkness.

Sleep was a long time coming.

* * *

A week later, Severus was no closer to coming up with an answer to their problem.

Now that he was no longer a spy there was no way of knowing if or when the Dark Lord would finally end all his pointless raids and attack Harry once and for all. And despite Harry's protestations, Severus knew there was no way this fight would take place outside of Hogwarts' grounds. There was no other place that was as fortified while also being removed from any large populations.

And yet there was no way Severus could think of to provoke the Dark Lord into attacking Hogwarts. Why attack a fortress when you could weaken the whole Wizarding world piece by piece? And what of the students in the castle? Who would protect them while the rest of the Order was battling Death Eaters?

And then there was the trouble with Harry, who was living in the dungeons with Severus. Aside from the two of them only three people knew where Harry was spending his nights, and Severus knew that the charade of Harry sleeping in a safe room somewhere in Hogwarts would only last so long. Sooner or later, one of the five of them—probably Granger or Harry himself—would make a slip and their cover would be blown. And what would happen then? What would happen to Harry if the world discovered he was living with a man twenty years his senior, a professor?

Resolving to discuss the matter again with Dumbledore, Severus forced his features to their regular sternness and walked the stairs from the dungeons to the Great Hall for lunch. At this point, even Lupin's irritating and pointless chatter seemed better than the circular argument that was running through his thoughts.

He was thinking through their last training session, mentally reviewing whether anyone had seen them together, when Harry fell into step beside him.

"Hey."

Severus' eyes went wide as he watched Harry pull his bag tighter over his shoulder, walking with him through the halls—halls full of people!—as though this were perfectly normal behavior.

"Just what do you think you're doing, Potter?" he hissed through his teeth.

Harry frowned and looked up, his steps never faltering. "Saying hello. And going to lunch. What are you doing?"

Severus turned away to look forward, schooling his face to impassivity, as though Harry wasn't acting like a damn fool. "I meant what are you doing walking with me?"

He could almost hear Harry shrug. "Why wouldn't I? I mean, everyone knows we're training together. It's not like it's a big secret. I think that's why everyone's avoiding me. It's like, if I can get along with you there must be something wrong with me."

Processing this new information, Severus watched the faces of the students as they walked by. Many of them were avoiding walking next to the two of them, their eyes looking on them in wonder before glancing down to the floor.

"I thought that was because of me."

Harry laughed. "I guess that's the standard response. No, they're doing it to me, too."

"Stop laughing." Quickly, he reached for his wand in his pocket and cast a privacy charm. "Harry, this is foolish. People, especially adolescents, are prone to gossip. Just one person has to speculate about the nature of our relationship for all of this to fall apart."

"Okay, first of all," Harry said, his tone so nonchalant that Severus wanted to throttle him, "no one would ever think that the two of us are together. We hated each other for far too long, and everyone knows that you're teaching me dueling and defense at night. Second, just because you see two people walking together doesn't mean they're...you know, together. And no one knows I'm gay."

"Oh? Finally discover the answer to that question?" Severus couldn't resist asking.

"Says the man who fucked me last night. And shut up. You know what I meant. As far as everyone thinks, I'm going to settle down with a nice witch one day. And does anyone know you're gay?"

Severus thought about this for a moment, and remembered the debacle with Lucius in his second year. The entire school had known his sexuality when he'd been a student, but if any of the current students had been informed it had yet to reach his ears. "It wasn't a secret when I was in school. If any of the parents told their children—"

"I don't think they did. If they had, I'd have heard about it by now. So relax," Harry said, and Severus again looked over to see his easy step, looking far too peaceful while in the presence of his supposedly hated professor.

Wanting to end this foolishness now, Severus canceled the privacy charm and shouted, "Get to lunch, Potter!" before he swept away from Harry with all his usual vitriol. He felt a trickle of amusement mixed with annoyance through the bond and ignored it, trying to look as angry and put out as possible as he walked up to his usual seat at the Head Table.

Dumbledore was already there, and though he looked his usual cheerful self, Severus knew he'd witnessed Harry's idiotic actions.

"Was something the matter with Harry?" he asked with a smile that did not match his soft, harsh tone.

"No. He seems to think the students are ostracizing him for his contact with me, and saw no reason not to walk openly with me in the halls."

"You disabused him of this notion, I assume?"

"Of course I did," Severus said with a scowl, then speared a bit of chicken. He was about to tell Dumbledore that it wouldn't happen again when Lupin sat down next to him.

"Severus—"

"I've already been lectured once, Lupin," he said, sending a glare towards the Gryffindor table for good measure. "I don't need another one from you."

"Maybe not, but Harry probably does. I don't know what he was thinking."

"He's growing frustrated with our current stalemate," Severus said, keeping his voice low enough so only Dumbledore and Lupin would hear. "I am as well, but I would never be so foolish as to advertise what needs to be kept secret."

"He should know better than anyone that we're working on the stalemate," Dumbledore said under his breath before turning to laugh at something Filius had said. At once, Severus was glad that his usual demeanor meant he never had to fake happiness. Still, he grumbled to himself that they'd been working on the stalemate for weeks now with no end in sight. It wasn't only Harry that was growing frustrated.

With Dumbledore occupied, Lupin began his regular useless chatter. "I know he's anxious for all this to end. We all are. But he can't do something this foolish, especially now."

"You're not telling me anything I don't already know," Severus grumbled, looking outward over the student body, which was far more silent than it had any right to be. Order members were guarding the doors like a fortress.

"Something has to be done. There must be some contingency, some plan that we haven't thought of to tip the scales," Severus said more to himself than to Lupin, putting down his fork and knife in consternation. "This can't continue."

"The Order is having another meeting tonight, but..." Lupin drifted off with a sigh, tapping his fingers on the table. The mutual frustration was not something Severus appreciated, the sounds of chatter and youthful laughter still strangely absent from the Great Hall. Living in an atmosphere of fear was weighing on everyone's nerves, and children were even less capable of dealing with such stress than the Aurors in residence.

Taking care that no one was watching him, Severus cast a glance at Harry, noticing how all the seventh year Gryffindors were attempting to have a light-hearted conversation and failing. Granger seemed to be attempting to bring Harry into their discussion, but no one but Longbottom was speaking to him. The strain of the awkward conversation could be felt even from the Head Table, and Severus almost felt guilty for having chided Harry for talking to him in the halls.

Almost.

Lupin had started to speak again, and Severus had started to ignore him, when something Severus saw in the corner of his eye drew his attention to the windows. Severus gripped his fork tighter and he held his breath as he watched a great black owl fly over the students' tables and head right for him.

It flew low over Severus' head and dropped a black envelope on top of his lunch, and Dumbledore made a quick motion for Severus not to touch it. As though he would make such a mistake.

_Fear_

Knowing that a hundred eyes were upon him Severus did not look at Harry, instead taking his wand and casting spell after spell on the envelope. When he was certain it contained no portkey, curse, hex, or any other trace of dark magic, he carefully turned it over to open it.

The wax seal was blood red, the snake signet making it painfully obvious who had sent it.

Reaching out to open it, Severus realized the entire room had gone quiet, everyone seeming to hold their breath as he opened the letter.

There was no note, no signature. There wasn't a need for one. The only thing in the envelope was a photograph, and as much as Severus tried to contain himself, he let out a soft gasp as he saw what it contained.

The picture had obviously been taken at night, but Severus recognized the place at once. The photo was of his house on Spinner's End, burning to the ground.

No one at the Head Table said a word. Severus clenched the photo in his hand before he slid it back inside the envelope and continued eating his lunch. The students returned to their meals and half-whispered conversations.

In between bites of his potatoes, Lupin managed to mutter, "I'm sorry, Severus." Severus sneered in return and tried to ignore the churning feeling in his stomach or the way his heart seemed to be beating madly in his chest.

Though he'd always had mixed feelings about his home on Spinner's End, it had been his home. He hadn't seen it in nearly a year now, and the fire hadn't taken much. All of his books were in his rooms at Hogwarts, as were a few of his mother's belongings that he'd wanted to keep, even most of his music. The keen sense of loss he felt was more melancholy than true pain, knowing that he could never return to that dingy little house ever again.

The thing that truly had his thoughts churning, his heart clenching in his chest, was the fact that the Dark Lord was sending him a very obvious message. There was no subtlety in this, no elegance, no grand plan. There was just Severus' house burned to the ground and the knowledge that he was now being targeted by the Dark Lord.

Would this be the only attack or merely the first? Severus had been protecting Harry, spending so many hours worrying over him, that he hadn't spared a thought for himself. He'd always known that he'd have to answer for his betrayal, but this attack was so deliberate, so _personal_ that Severus had no idea how to defend against it.

_Rage_

Keeping his head down, Severus looked towards the Gryffindor table with caution, careful not to let anyone see him looking. His efforts were all in vain; Harry was unabashedly staring at him, his expression angry and his body tense. And though it was impossible that Harry knew exactly what had happened, Severus' emotions must have made it clear enough.

And in that moment, Severus wasn't sure what disturbed him more: the idea that the Dark Lord was targeting him for destruction or the look of cold determination on Harry's face.

* * *

The Order meeting was in chaos.

Severus stood silently by Dumbledore, and Lupin stood between himself and Harry, watching as two dozen people shouted at the top of their lungs, all trying to be heard.

Looking around the room, Severus watched as Arabella Figg spoke in low tones to Dumbledore, looking to be the voice of reason that no one could hear. Elphias Doge was shouting as loud as possible to a man whose name Severus hadn't bothered to learn before. Kingsley was busy trying to bring order to a room full of terrified, angry people and Moody was staring Severus down.

Having heard enough, Dumbledore got to his feet.

"Enough!" he cried, and put up his hands. The shouting stopped, but no one seemed calm. Severus thought nothing was likely to be accomplished with a room full of people who all seemed too angry and frightened to think logically. He was about to tell Lupin the same when Dumbledore started speaking.

"This bickering is getting us nowhere."

"No, Albus, our inaction is getting us nowhere," Moody said, taking a step from the crowd of people to address Dumbledore directly. "There has to be something that can be done. There aren't enough of us to guard every Wizarding village in Britain."

Dumbledore sighed and rested his hands on the edge of his desk. "I realize that, Alastor, however—"

"We lost five men in the last skirmish, Dumbledore," Kingsley said from the corner of the room. "We can't afford to lose any more. If you have some plan hidden up your sleeve, I think you should tell us about it now."

_Anguish_

_Guilt_

Severus wanted nothing more than to physical restrain Harry from saying a word, but Lupin and his own sense of self preservation were standing in the way.

"We will engage Voldemort here, at Hogwarts," Dumbledore said, "that has always been the plan. There's no other place that's as fortified—"

"But when, Albus?" Moody cried out, seeming far more upset than Severus had ever seen him. "And how would we lure him here? Why in Merlin's name would he come to Hogwarts, where he knows he doesn't stand half a chance as he does anywhere else?"

Severus could see Harry fidgeting out of the corner of his eye and bit his lip.

"Well, what would you suggest we do, Alastor?" Minerva asked from her position opposite Severus. "And what of the children in this castle? You seem to forget that Hogwarts _was_ attacked not a month ago!"

"No," Moody said, and Severus knew exactly what he was going to say before he said it. "Potter was attacked. Voldemort didn't dare attack Hogwarts then, and he's not going to attack Hogwarts now. We need a different plan, and in the meantime, I need more men to respond to these raids."

"We have people who are in charge of recruiting, but I'm afraid we cannot devote so much time to that issue, Alastor," Dumbledore said, sitting back down in his chair. "Now, back to the real issue—"

"I can think of one man who should be out there and isn't." Moody turned towards him and Severus sneered and threw back his shoulders, ready for an attack, when Moody surprised him. "Care to tell us why we're out there fighting while Lupin is spending all his time in Hogwarts?"

Severus felt Harry's guilt flare before Dumbledore stood again.

"Remus is here for a specific reason and at my request. Now back to our biggest concern—"

"We're talking in circles, Dumbledore," Kingsley said, obviously frustrated. "We realize you're in a difficult situation, but whatever it is you're doing isn't working. We have to do something different."

The room erupted into shouts once again, some defending Dumbledore's leadership and others agreeing that something needed to be done differently. Dumbledore stood and tried to calm down the Order members as he'd done before, but there was no quieting them. The mood of the room grew from frightened to angry, and Severus watched as the shouts grew, as people who were on the same side screamed at each other, all of it pointless.

Worst of all, Severus could feel Harry's emotions swirling, could feel him struggling with his own guilt. Severus wanted nothing more than to take him from the room but stayed still. Dumbledore might trust everyone in this room, but Severus did not.

"Harry, don't..." Lupin said, and Severus turned, watching as Harry paled, then stepped towards the center of the room.

All conversations stopped and the room grew quickly silent, all focused on Harry as he struggled to find his words.

Severus mentally pleaded for him to stop, clenching his fists and praying Harry could _feel_ his protests, only barely holding himself back from stopping Harry from what he was about to do.

"I could go meet him," Harry said, his voice strong but wavering. "I could go to some place where I know I'd be followed, then lead him...somewhere. He wants me," he said, turning to face Moody and Kingsley. "We know he wants me. And he's doing all of this to draw me out."

Nothing but silence met Harry's statement, and Severus wished he could object, wished he could fall back into his old pattern of accusing Harry of egotism, but everyone in the room knew what Harry was saying was true.

"Harry, we've been over this," Dumbledore said, holding out a hand to stop Kingsley and Moody from speaking. "You'll not face him alone. We're not about to use you as bait."

"Why not?" Moody asked, his scarred face twisted in a sneer. "Potter's right. It's him Voldemort wants, and he's obviously prepared to destroy everything he can if it means getting to Potter." He looked at Harry, his stern gaze softening minutely before he said, "It's not your fault, boy, but this is only going to end with you."

Harry paled and seemed to shrink in his spot. "I know."

Severus closed his eyes, and hoped he wasn't about to damn himself. He removed himself from his position besides Dumbledore, and spoke directly to Moody.

"You'd send Potter out like a pig to slaughter?" Severus asked him, allowing all his disgust to bleed over into his tone. "Allow a boy to fight your battles for you?"

"You're not the one on the front lines, Snape," Moody said, his distorted features twisting with menace. "Don't dare to judge me for wanting Potter to end it. You get to sit here in your school, you get to sleep peacefully at night and know that you're going to wake up in the morning!"

"Be quiet!" Harry shouted, and for some reason everyone in the room listened. "Listen to me! All of this has to end, and it ends with me and Voldemort."

"Harry, we've discussed this," Dumbledore said, his features dark and angry. "You're not going to go out on your own to meet him."

"No, Potter, you're not," Severus said, ignoring his own good advice and grabbing Harry by the collar, bring up a sneer he hadn't used in months. "Perhaps if you'd try a little harder in your dueling lessons you'd be ready by now." He ignored the shocked, hurt look on Harry's face and dragged him from the center of the room. Addressing Moody and Kingsley, he said with a sneer, "Unfortunately, any plan that revolves around Potter will have to wait until the boy wonder actually puts some effort into his training!"

Severus dragged Harry out of the room like an errant schoolboy, not bothering to care how that scene must have looked to the Order. He could feel Harry's rage, his embarrassment and anger, but ignored it as he used all his strength to get him into the hallway.

When they were finally clear of the stairs Harry shook him off, his face pale and angry, his anger obvious. He was just about to begin shouting when Severus held up a hand, looking around the hallways of the castle to tell Harry the obvious.

Though it was past midnight, Severus didn't trust the halls of Hogwarts to be void of nighttime wanderers. He silently started walking to the dungeons, Harry reluctantly following him, not looking forward to the spectacular argument they were about to have.

He heard a silencing charm and then Harry said, "I can't believe you did that."

"Oh?" he said, his tone snide and just as angry. "I think I could say the same of you."

Harry gave a frustrated growl before he shouted, "What else is there to do? Everyone's waiting on me, and there's no reason to wait anymore! I'm ready! The bond is—"

"You'll not face him alone," Severus said, making his steps larger so Harry had to jog to keep up with him. "I refuse to allow you to face him alone."

"But I wouldn't be alone! You said it yourself that you'd be with me. The bond works over long distances. There's no need for you to actually be there!"

They'd just reached the Entrance Hall when Severus found he couldn't listen to this for another moment. He stopped and spun around, watching Harry's angry face contort in the firelight from scattered candles and shouted, "What if it were me, Potter? Would you send me out to face him, alone? Could you?" Not caring if anyone was watching, he grabbed Harry's body and pulled him against his own, needing to touch him, needing Harry to know that he couldn't do what he was asking.

"Don't do that," Harry said, gripping Severus' arms. "That's not fair."

"Life isn't fair, Potter—"

"Severus," a voice said from behind him, and he spun around, covering Harry's body with his own as he brandished his wand against the unknown voice.

Darkness obscured the figure and Severus canceled the silencing spell, waiting for whomever had spoken to reveal himself.

He heard Harry swear under his breath and step out from behind him as Draco Malfoy came into view. There was silence for a moment, Draco's soft footsteps and Severus' heartbeat the only noises audible to him. Draco looked thinner than he had a month ago, and Severus forced down his apprehension as he began to speak.

"This really isn't a smart move on your behalf, Draco," Severus said, noticing Harry take up a defensive position to his right. "What are you doing here?"

Draco's face was paler than usual, and he put out his hands, showing that his wand was still in his pocket. "I came to warn you. Severus, he's going to kill you."

_Fear_

"He'll try," Severus said, his wand not dropping an inch. "I knew the possible consequences of my actions when I chose to switch sides...far before you ever came to Hogwarts."

Shaking his head, Draco took another step forward.

"Stop right there, Malfoy," Harry said, his voice carrying a deadly threat. "Don't get anywhere near him."

Draco turned to Harry, but the fear didn't leave his face. "I came to warn him, that's all. And to offer..." He turned his gaze back to Severus and said, "Severus, I can protect you. I know I can get him to forgive you if you come with me."

Severus fought a dark chuckle. "Do you really believe that?"

Nodding, Draco said, "It's the only way. I can protect you. I love you, Severus. I don't want anything to happen to you."

_Tell him_.

A soft voice spoke into Severus' ear, the little hairs on his neck standing at attention. And though it had never been as clear before, Severus recognized it immediately, and felt his heart drop even as he gripped his wand tighter.

"God, you're pathetic," Harry sneered. "He doesn't want you, Malfoy. He never did."

"You're being selfish," Draco said to Harry. "You can't protect him, and he's going to die if he doesn't come with me."

_Tell him_.

Severus struggled to keep his focus on Draco, knowing that he couldn't drop his guard for a moment. He ignored the voice, wanting to shout at it, curse it to the deepest layer of hell.

"You're mad," Harry whispered. "You think you can parade him in front of your lord, and he'll be forgiven? Do you really believe that or is this some sick way of killing him for rejecting you?"

"I love him!" Draco shouted, even as Severus felt a pressure on head, his hand wavering as he struggled to ignore the voice of Fate.

_Tell him!_

"No," he whispered, and suddenly it was as though time had slowed down, as though Harry and Draco were frozen in their contest of wills, the fight over him paused as Fate began to flash images in his mind.

He watched as the Wizarding world weakened, as villages were burned to the ground, as families were torn apart, as Order members were slain. He saw Lupin leaving the school to fight, and Harry mourning him when news of his death reached Hogwarts. Severus gasped and felt his heart clench as he saw the students, the Board of Governors turn against them as he and Harry were discovered, one overheard conversation revealing what he had struggled to keep hidden. He saw the world crumble to the point where there was so much less left to save.

_Tell him now_! the voice shouted and Severus gasped as he was released from the whirling vision, as Fate freed him from its grasp to do what was needed.

"You sick little worm," Harry said with a sneer, wand aimed at Draco's heart. "If you think I'll let you anywhere near him—"

"We're bonded," Severus said suddenly, his strength renewed as he realized what had to be done. Draco's face paled even further and his eyes went wide.

"What?" he asked in a whisper, his features twisting in sadness and disbelief.

"We're bonded with the _Geheald us Hal_," Severus said, his voice sounding far more confident than he felt. He slowly walked forward, looking Draco in the eye, the pale candlelight revealing his horror. "I could never want you, Draco. But even if I did, I could never act upon it."

_Astonishment_

_Terror_

Severus ignored Harry for now, keeping his wand aimed at Draco's heart as he stood over him, leaning closer and saying, "Go tell your master. The bond grows stronger with every passing day." His voice dropped to a whisper and he said, "With every night I spend with Harry, our power grows exponentially." He looked down at Draco, his expression heartbroken and terrified, and said, "Go. Tell him exactly what I've told you, and tell him we'll be waiting."

Without another word, Draco walked backwards into the shadows, then took off in a run, his footsteps loud in the now-silent hallway.

Like a coil that had been too tightly wound Severus deflated and closed his eyes, praying that he'd made the right decision, that all of this would soon come to an end.

"Severus," Harry whispered, and he turned to look at Severus, his eyes never having looked so fearful. "What have you done?"


	36. And When It Is Gone, Only I Shall Remain

Disclaimer: I remain snow, and am not JK Rowling. I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters.

Warning: This story is rated M and is not safe for work.

A/N: Thanks to Torina for looking over the chapter for plot and to shoebox for the beta. I'm very sorry this chapter is so late. My entire life changed in the last month. I got a new job, new apartment and new lifestyle. I'm a daywalker now, and I've had to adjust myself to a new writing schedule. So while my goal will still be two weeks per chapter, I also want to take the time to do them correctly. These next few chapters have been in my head for over two years now. It's amazing to finally be able to write them, and I just want to get them right.

Please be patient with me. We're so near the end, I can taste it. Thank you all so much for sticking with me.

* * *

"Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration." Excerpt from Frank Herbert's _Dune_.

"The attacks have stopped."

Harry bit his nail and said nothing, keeping his eyes on Dumbledore's desk as Moody began to speak. He forced himself not to meet Severus' gaze, and could feel Remus' eyes boring a hole in the back of his neck

"Yes," Dumbledore said, leaning back in his chair, his eyes focusing on some bauble in front of him rather than the man speaking. "I believe we've reached a turning point."

Harry watched as Moody and Kingsley looked at each other from the corner of his eye, and he felt his heart race faster. He knew why the attacks had stopped. Severus had told Remus and Dumbledore what had happened with Malfoy, and Harry had been on the verge of panic since that night.

The night Severus had made the move that would either win the war or damn both himself and Harry to places he couldn't bear to think about. There'd been no need for Severus to explain why he'd done it; Harry wasn't an idiot. They'd been stuck, and Severus was clever enough to see a way out. But there was a fear growing in Harry, not only for his life and the lives of others. Severus' confession might jeopardize whatever future they might have after the war was won.

Malfoy would tell Voldemort, would who tell his Death Eaters, who would tell...

Everyone.

Harry tasted blood and looked at his finger. He wiped it on his shirt and started chewing another one.

"You're not surprised by this, Dumbledore," Kingsley stated, no question in his tone, and Harry could feel his eyes on him even as he attempted to blend into the wall. "I realize you have your own eyes and ears, but we don't know what to make of this."

"Except that he's gathering his followers close to him," Moody said. Harry looked up then, just in time to see Moody's false eye focus on him. "I don't know what's happened, but I don't like being shut out. Especially when I'm the one on the front line."

"I believe it's obvious what's happened." Harry watched as Dumbledore, his expression blank, steepled his fingers and looked closely at Kingsley and Moody. "He's gathering his forces, focusing on a real attack."

"But why?" Moody asked with a growl. "Why now? What's happened?"

"Did you want the attacks to continue?" Severus asked, his tone light and mocking, and Harry struggled as he tried to look at Severus without really _looking_ at him. "Perhaps I'm mistaken, but I assumed the absence of violence to be a good thing."

And it was a good thing, Harry though, except that they all knew what it meant.

Harry watched as Moody held back some insult, his face twisted in anger at Severus' snide remark. He swallowed whatever he was about to say, and instead turned one eye on Harry and the other on Severus. "I've been hearing things, Snape. Murmurs about you and..."

Both eyes focused on Harry, and he struggled to appear innocent, to not allow his face to redden and his eyes to drop to the floor. He met Moody's gaze dead-on, but he felt his heart begin to beat madly in his chest and clenched his fists as fear began to take over.

"Oh?" Severus asked, his voice caring a threat. "And what murmurs might those be?"

Kingsley laid a hand on Moody's forearm and said, "Ridiculous rumors, whispered by people whom I wouldn't trust with a knut. Nothing worth mentioning." He turned a glare on Moody, then returned his attention to Dumbledore.

"I'm going to send the students home early," Dumbledore said, ignoring Moody's words and picking up a quill to pen a quick message. "It's two extra weeks of holiday for them, and they'll be safer in their homes than they would be here."

Biting down on his nail, Harry struggled to ignore Severus' growing concern through the bond. He tried to control his fear, but he couldn't help the way his heart was beating, how his body had broken out in a cold sweat. He'd known it was coming down to this, that this is what they'd been waiting for, hoping for even. But knowing that it was coming, coming in a matter of _days_ ...

"I want everyone loyal to our cause stationed at the castle," Dumbledore told Moody, "as soon as possible."

"Albus," Moody said, "what happened? Why is all this happening now?" He looked directly at Harry, and this time Harry couldn't help the expression of absolute terror that settled on his face.

"Alastor," Dumbledore said, sitting up in his chair and drawing Moody's attention back on himself, "get your people to Hogwarts. Tonight." It was a clear dismissal, and Moody and Kingsley stood to go, even as they both kept their eyes on Harry before they turned.

Silence pervaded as the door closed, and Severus stood and came to put a hand on Harry's shoulder.

He shook it off.

He wasn't angry at Severus, not exactly. But he couldn't bear to be touched; not then, not in a room with two other people. Not when he felt as though he was moments from giving himself away. A terrible dread fell over him, covering him like a blanket so he could barely breathe. It was as though all the air in the room had been removed, leaving him to choke on his fear.

He must have been doing a decent job of hiding his emotions because Remus said, "Harry, Severus did what he had to do—"

"Keep your nose out of other people's business, Lupin," Severus said as he stood behind Harry, not touching him but not leaving all the same.

Dumbledore sighed and sat back in his chair. "We're as prepared as we're going to be. We'll continue our practices until the day comes, and I believe it will be soon."

Harry's hands were shaking, and he lifted one to adjust his glasses, leaving a smudge of blood on the lenses. The murmured cleaning spell Severus cast went unacknowledged. He didn't know what to say to him that hadn't already been said. He knew it had been necessary, that _something_ had been needed and Malfoy had just been in the right place at the right time.

But did it have to be this?

"What's going to happen now?" Harry asked to no one in particular.

"It's late," Dumbledore said, casting _Tempus_ and turning to look at the three men by his side. "The students will leave first thing in the morning. As soon as they're gone—"

"No," Harry said, and he could feel Severus' eyes on him. "I mean if everyone finds out. About me and Severus. What will happen to him?"

The hand was again placed on his shoulder, and Harry again shook it off, battling the fear that was threatening to overtake him.

"These attacks have rendered the Ministry powerless at the moment, Harry," Dumbledore said. "Whatever happens, it won't happen until later. We have more pressing matter to attend to at the moment."

Harry bit his lip and scoffed. "Maybe you think we won't survive—"

Dumbledore shook his head "Harry—"

"But I'm planning on it. I don't want to be expelled or have my bond-mate punished over something we didn't have any control over."

"Harry, I promise," Dumbledore said, "If it comes to that—and I don't believe it will—I will protect you with all my power and influence. I won't see Severus punished. I swear."

But Dumbledore's promises meant little to Harry. With the briefest of nods, he stood and walked out the door, listening for the footsteps that followed him before he started down the staircase.

* * *

Harry couldn't help but wonder if the Great Hall had been this silent before he'd entered the room or if it'd gone quiet after he stepped inside. He straightened his back and squared his shoulders, nearly every eye turning to him as he walked towards the Gryffindor table, trying and failing to ignore the anxiety growing within him.

It had been a long night. Severus had seemed to sense that Harry hadn't wanted to talk, hadn't wanted comfort, hadn't wanted anything really except to go to sleep. As he woke, he felt the fear he was fighting threaten to overtake him, and he so wanted to lean into Severus' warm embrace. A part of him wanted nothing more than to take the strength Severus was offering, allow himself to be comforted and face what was coming. But as much as he needed Severus, the need to hold himself together was far greater. He needed to be strong. They were almost at the end, and he couldn't falter now.

He kept his footsteps straight, even when he saw the Slytherins look at him curiously and start to whisper, the other houses joining them a moment later.

He ignored them and smiled at Hermione, before he stopped.

It was Hermione's false smile and her obvious attempt at summoning bravery when she motioned to him to sit next to her that told him what he'd feared had happened.

Everyone knew.

"Good morning," she said, her tone painfully casual. "Did you sleep well?"

No one was talking. The entire Gryffindor table seemed to be listening for his response, as though he'd actually answer their unvoiced question.

"Yeah, fine." He concentrated on the toast Hermione thrust at him and forced himself not look at Severus at the Head Table. "When's the train leaving?"

"In an hour," she said, her spoon making little clanging noises as she hit it against the side of her bowl. She bit her lip and met Neville's eyes from across the table before steeling herself as she addressed Harry. "I won't be on it, Harry. Neither will Neville, or Seamus and Dean. Quite a few us are staying."

Harry's eyes closed of their own volition as his breath was stolen from him, and he said nothing for a moment; pieces of toast got stuck under his nail as he ground it into bits. He'd spent so much energy worrying over Severus that he hadn't even considered this as a possibility. The idea that his friends and classmates might stay, might actually go out to meet Death Eaters...

"What?" he said, his voice carrying across the room like a shout in all the silence. He saw Severus look up from his breakfast out of the corner of his eye.

"We're not leaving, Harry," she said softly, and this time she did look at him. Her gaze was sorrowful as she looked to Neville, then back towards him. In a lowered voice, she said, "This is our fight, too. We can't just leave—"

He stood up, cutting her off and motioning for her to follow him outside. He couldn't think about this, it wasn't possible. In all his thoughts on how this last battle would play out, in all his fears over Severus dying, he never thought he'd have to worry about his friends.

As soon as the doors were closed, he said, "You can't stay here. You know what's going to happen."

She bit her lip and seemed to struggle with what to say, as if she could sense that Harry was nearing the end of his rope and didn't want to push him further. "Harry, this isn't just your fight—"

"But it's not yours either!" he shouted, trying to will her to understand that she couldn't stay. None of them could. Defense classes and the DA were one thing, but he doubted any of them could possibly be prepared for what was coming. "Hermione, if something were to happen to you, I couldn't bear it. You have to leave, and you have to convince everyone else to leave with you."

Frowning, she said, "I can't do that. And it's not only Gryffindors staying, it's students from every house. You don't get to decide who gets to fight and who doesn't."

He shook his head, even as he heard soft footsteps approach from behind, lingering in the shadows.

"Hermione, please," he begged, "I just got you back. Please don't do this. I wouldn't be able to—"

"They killed Ron!" she shouted, losing whatever battle she'd been waging over her own emotions. Her face turned red and her eyes began to shine, and suddenly that one great loss returned to Harry like a flood. "They killed him, Harry. He's dead. If anyone has the right to be there, it's me, and don't you dare think you can stop me!"

Harry was shocked into silence, and he was forced to remember that he wasn't the only person to lose someone to Voldemort. As much as he wanted to beg her to leave, needed to know that she'd be safe, he nodded his head and used every ounce of his strength to remain silent.

A moment later the doors opened, and the students began filing out. He kept his eyes on Hermione as his ears picked up words whispered just loud enough for him to hear: Snape, Potter, Death Eater, DMLE, fucking. Hermione shook her head and forced a smile, and Harry never wanted to hug her more than in that moment.

"Once the younger years leave the rest of us are going to practice our dueling in the common room. Will you come?"

Harry nodded and watched as she was swept away with the crowd, leaving him to watch them go, wondering what would happen to all of them. The rush of adrenaline that had come from Hermione's announcement now gone, Harry was left feeling chilled to the bone. He stood in the center of the hall, his gaze drawn to windows revealing a dull light from outside. The freezing air snuck through his robes, stealing his warmth and covering him in the cold. He put his arms around himself, not caring if he looked like he was trying to make himself as small as possible.

The footsteps from earlier made a reappearance, but Harry couldn't turn around, not now, not when he felt so raw, so exposed.

Severus put a hand on his shoulder, and he allowed it to linger for a moment, wanting nothing more than to step back into Severus' warmth.

He closed his eyes and shook it off. "Not now."

"Harry..."

"Don't mind being seen with me now that everyone knows?"

"Everyone does not know," Severus said, standing at Harry's side. "Everyone _suspects_, but that is hardly the same thing. They know nothing."

Harry didn't really see the difference, but he didn't have the strength to fight. Not right now, not when all of this seemed to be happening at once.

His right side grew warm as Severus attempted to comfort him, putting an arm across his shoulder. Not wanting to hurt Severus, he whispered, "Please. Please not now. I don't think I could make it through the day if..."

Severus removed his arm and whispered, "Soon."

Harry nodded, and went to join the other Gryffindors for dueling practice.

* * *

"Ah!"

Harry couldn't help the cry of pain as he was knocked onto his arse for the third time that night. Dumbledore stood over him, his normally kind features twisted into a frown.

"You're not concentrating."

Harry panted and stood up, wincing at the pain in his lower back and shoulder. No matter how hard he tried he just couldn't focus on their dueling sessions. Not when he knew Severus was just in the other room, lying on the sofa, waiting to be drained. He couldn't do it anymore, not when it might be tomorrow that he would have to take so much from Severus for the real battle.

Dumbledore sighed and paced the room.

"I understand that you're concerned for Severus, Harry, but you do realize that he would be the first person to suffer if you fail?"

Harry scoffed and looked at his shoes. As if he didn't know that. As if that fact hadn't been repeated to him every single time they had one of these practices. That didn't make it any easier, didn't make him feel Severus' pain any less. Didn't help him forget that Voldemort could attack at any time.

_Frustration_

He ran a hand through his hair and he could almost feel Severus agreeing with Dumbledore, even if there was no way he could be privy to the conversation. He'd avoided Severus all day, helping the Gryffindors and a few others with their dueling techniques, hating that it was necessary but wanting to help them as much as he could.

And as much as he wanted to go to Severus, he didn't know how he could be with him and not give in to his fear. It was the worse sort of conflict, wanting something so badly but knowing you shouldn't have it.

Thoughts of Severus and what might possibly happen were running through his mind when he suddenly he felt a tugging. He quickly stifled a gasp as he felt some invisible string that connected him to Severus begin to pull him, softly at first, then with more urgency.

"I know this is frustrating for you, Harry," Dumbledore said, but Harry was only half-listening. The pulling became insistent, almost like he could feel Severus grabbing his arm. "I can't begin to imagine how you feel right now, but you must concentrate. It isn't only your lives that hang in the balance."

Harry closed his eyes as he began to feel a war waging inside him. A part of him wanted to respond to Severus' call, go to their rooms and have the argument that had been brewing for days. But as much as he wanted that, he knew that Voldemort could attack at any time. He felt his body struggling not to give into exhaustion as he forced himself to keep steady.

"You have no idea what this is like," Harry muttered, trying to keep his mind here, in this room, and not with Severus.

Dumbledore's eyes softened and he sighed, letting the hand that held his wand fall to his side. He opened his mouth as though he was about to speak, then paused. Shaking his head, he looked up and said, "I was in love once too, Harry. In a time of war..." he drifted off and Harry couldn't help but listen. He'd never heard Dumbledore speak a word about his life before, and the terrible sadness that swept over him made him seem so much older.

"It is my deepest wish that you have the happiness that was denied to us," Dumbledore said sadly, his expression twisted in grief.

Harry had no idea what to say to that, and tried to ignore the frantic tugging from Severus as he struggled with his words.

"I'm sorry," he said, biting his lip and rubbing his shoulder for want of something to do with his hands. "What was her name?"

Dumbledore smiled sadly, as if he was bringing her face to memory, and said, "Gellert."

Harry's eyes widened a fraction as he processed that information, nodding even as he realized that he and Dumbledore—and Severus—had something in common, before he gasped and looked Dumbledore in the eyes as he realized the importance of that name.

"Gellert?"

Dumbledore nodded, and silence pervaded for a moment as Harry began to fathom what he'd just been told. "I don't take these things I ask of you lightly, Harry. I understand what I'm asking, of both you and Severus. I wanted you to know...I do not wish to be heartless."

Harry struggled to take a deep breath and he couldn't help how his hands were clenched, at how his entire body was shaking, not only from the information he'd just learned but from the idea that he and Dumbledore might soon have something else in common.

It was very likely that he'd lose Severus the same way Dumbledore had lost Grindelwald.

"I...have to go," he said, feeling Severus pulling at him as though he was physically in the room. "I'm sorry."

"Yes, perhaps it would be best to end our session. I believe it will be our last," he said, tucking his wand into his robe. "Perhaps it's time for you to go to Severus?"

Harry nodded, turning around swiftly to exit the room, the cold winter air biting at him as he stepped into the hall. He tugged his robe around him, his pace quickening, knowing he had to get to Severus, feeling as though he was about to slip through his fingers.

He walked with long steps, then broke out into a run, not knowing why he was running when he knew Severus was safe in the dungeons, but no longer able to hold his fear back, feeling as though the world was closing in on him.

His harsh gasps for air left his lungs feeling cold, and he hardly cared about the remaining students lingering in the halls, or how it was very likely that every Slytherin who'd stayed behind saw him as he ran into Severus' rooms as though he belonged there.

With a firm thrust, he closed the door behind him, only to see an angry Severus stalking towards him as he turned.

Grabbing his collar and thrusting him against the door, Severus pulled Harry to him and hissed, "This ends now, Potter! I can't stand another minute of you sulking around our rooms, not letting me touch you when I know you—"

Harry cut him off with a desperate kiss, his own hands snaking through Severus' robes to feel his heart beat, needing to know Severus was still here, was still alive, even if it was only today.

His fingers fumbled as he tried to unbutton the multitude of buttons on Severus' vest, his breaths coming out in gasps before he gave into frustration and pulled the vest in two, dozens of button casualties falling to the floor.

"Harry—"

He wrapped his arms around Severus' chest and let himself listen to his heartbeat. A sob pulled from him erupted as his fear bubbled up from inside him, coming out now, finally, in Severus' embrace.

Strong arms wrapped around him, pulling him up so Severus could look at his face. Harry tried to keep his eyes on the ground, not wanting Severus to see him like this, knowing that he couldn't bear to look into his eyes and have all his weakness blasted open.

"Harry," Severus said, his hands grasping at Harry's face, pulling at his hair, "Harry, look at me!"

Harry did, and he felt his heart ache at the look in Severus' eyes. The fear he felt crashed upon him all at once, choking him as he realized this could be one of the last times he'd ever look at the person he loved.

"I can't..." he whispered, shaking his head.

"Look at me, Harry," Severus said, his tone stern but his voice soft. "It is normal to fear death—"

"It's not my death I'm afraid of! I'm afraid of losing you!" His body shook with the force of his fear, and he threw himself onto Severus, stifling his sobs with a kiss. Severus gasped as he leaned backward, catching Harry and leaning against the sofa before he began moving them towards the bedroom.

On some level Harry knew his fear that had brought him to this. That the dread he'd been feeling since that night with Malfoy was now bursting out of him at the thought of losing Severus on the battlefield, or worse, later to the Wizengamot.

"Harry, listen to me," Severus said as he lowered Harry to the bed. As his panic welled up within him, Harry grasped at Severus, needing his touch after having denying himself for too long. His legs scrambled to pull Severus down on top of him, and his hands grasped at his back. He didn't know what he wanted, aside from knowing that he wanted Severus. Though he could feel him with hands, lips, legs, it felt as though Severus was slipping away.

"I can't lose you," Harry said in a whispered hiss, his lips still seeking Severus', only to find him pulling back.

Suddenly Harry let out a gasp as Severus sank down on him, all the air rushing out of him as Severus' full weight landed on his chest and stomach. Long-fingered hands grabbed his face and Harry was forced to face his fear.

_Pain_

_Regret_

Severus sighed, then paused before he spoke. "Do you want me to promise I'll survive? Do you want me to lie to you?" he asked, and Harry closed his eyes, not wanting to hear the truth. "I won't do that. Harry, stop being ridiculous and look at me!"

Harry did, looking up in time to see something soften in Severus' gaze. He loosened his grip on Harry's face, his fingers wandering over Harry's lips as his mind seemed to wander.

"I have no desire to die. If I have to sacrifice myself I will, but I promise you this..." he waited until Harry was looking at him before he said, "I won't leave you if I can help it. Not again. I swear it."

A sob escaped Harry's throat before he could help it, and he took Severus' face in his hands. "That's the best I'm going to get, isn't it?"

Severus remained silent, his unspoken response coming loud and clear. The quiet strength that came from Severus allowed Harry to pause, and he realized that his fear was attempting to rob him of this moment.

That was something he couldn't allow. Not when his moments with Severus could be coming to an end.

Quieting his breaths, he nodded and said, "All right."

"All right," Severus repeated, then said, "As for right now, I don't know how long we have, but I'm here at the moment. Perhaps we should enjoy ourselves, regardless of what may happen?"

Harry nodded, and pushed the fear away as Severus' lips met his own. His stifled breath was concealed by Severus' kisses as clothing was slowly removed, Severus' body never moving too far away from his own. Hands took special care to caress every part of Harry as Severus pulled off his shoes and trousers, as his shirt was lifted above his head.

"You're hurt," Severus said, inspecting the bruises on Harry's shoulders and back. "I have a salve that can heal this."

"Later," Harry said, knowing that he needed this far more than he needed his bruises healed. He leaned up and kissed Severus again.

Oh, he missed this. Suddenly his stubbornness seemed so ridiculous, his fears being slowly calmed by Severus' gentle touches. The warmth of Severus' body seemed to cover him like a warm blanket, where he'd been so cold before. The fear that had threatened to strangle him retreated until all he knew was touch and pleasure at Severus' hands.

Fingers carressed his entrance, and Harry closed his eyes and allowed himself to live in the moment, this moment where Severus was here and that was all that mattered. As he felt Severus gently prepared him, Harry gave himself over to a different kind of pleasure: the release of the heavy weight that had been on his shoulders.

Harry spread his legs as Severus came up to kiss him again, maneuvering his body until he felt Severus' cock at his entrance, a smile of pure delight on his lips.

"Feeling better are we?" Severus said as he slipped inside and slowly began to thrust.

"Yes," Harry whispered as his legs spread wider, as he welcomed Severus inside his body, feeling his fear purged from the inside out. He spared a thought for what an idiot he'd been before Severus began to thrust faster and harder, meeting his prostate with every thrust so that all conscious thought left Harry.

"Yes, Harry," he heard Severus mumble as he began to fist his cock, "feel me. I'm right...here."

Harry threw his head back and moaned as he came, Severus following silently a moment later. For a few moments the only sound in the room was their breathing, their bodies entwined, neither of them in any hurry to break their connection.

A few minutes later, Harry adjusted his bruised back on the pillows, moaning lightly, and Severus rolled over and laid down next to him. He muttered a cleaning spell and said, "Feeling better, idiot boy?"

Harry couldn't help his grin and chuckle, knowing he sounded like he'd just been well-shagged, which he had.

"Much."

"Hmm. Perhaps next time you'll let the dramatics end before they get too out of hand?"

"We're going off to war," Harry said, and even though he knew the statement was true, somehow he no longer feared it as he had just half an hour ago. Nothing was different. Severus, his friends, Harry himself might die. And yet he felt as though his perspective had changed, as though everything was just a little less dark.

"Yes, I am aware of that."

Harry scoffed to conceal a laugh, something he'd been unable to do before. "Fine. We should have a rule. Any time either of us has to face a dark lord, we get a free pass to some melodrama."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, so if the next time whichever dark lord targets you, you get permission to act...well, pretty much like yourself."

Severus pinched him.

"Ow! Okay, not like yourself. Because you're not dramatic at all. Your robes certainly don't seem to move of their own accord—"

He was silenced by Severus biting his lips, Harry smiling around his teeth as they playfully nipped him.

"Perhaps," Severus said again, pulling Harry close to him so he was laying down on his chest. "But do promise me you won't behave like an arse the next time you find yourself shaking in your trainers."

Harry chuckled and held Severus tighter. _Next time_, he thought, and realized that there was no point in wondering if this was the end, if this might be the last night he had with Severus. It could be, he realized and he nearly felt that fear return. But then Severus held him tighter, no doubt knowing what Harry was feeling, and his anxiety receded.

No, he couldn't let fear win. He'd enjoy every moment with Severus that he had, and then he'd go out and kill the monster that threatened to take Severus away from him.

And that was all there was to it. There was no other option.

"Harry?"

Harry gripped Severus tighter, resolved now that nothing would separate them, not Voldemort, not even his own fear.

"I love you," he said plainly, and he raised his head to smile at Severus and kiss his beloved face.

Severus grumbled, but Harry saw the smile that was threatening to take over his lips as he said, "And I've learned to tolerate you...on occasion."

Harry laughed again and asked, "You really aren't going to say it again, are you? I'm going to have to borrow Dumbledore's pensieve if I want to hear it."

"Are the words that important to you?" Severus asked as the answer were important to him, as though he'd give Harry what he needed.

But they were just words. Everything Severus did, every touch, every glance, every soft look and hidden smile told Harry what he needed to know.

"No," he said, then pulled the purple blanket over their shoulders.

"Mmm," Severus grumbled before he sighed and—without looking at Harry—softly said, "I do." Harry smiled and leaned over to kiss him before Severus gave an awful sounding cough. "I'm fine," he said before Harry could even ask, then cleared his throat and held him tighter.

Closing his eyes as Severus doused the lights, Harry burrowed further into safety, into hope, keeping the fear at bay. With a kiss to Severus' chest, he nestled into the warmth of their bed and let sleep claim him.


	37. Their Last Day on Earth

Warnings: This story is rated M, which means it's not safe for work.

A/N: Many thanks to Torina for working out the little plotty things with me, and to WhiteCotton, whose beta skills continue to amaze me. Thank you so much. As always, a kiss and wave to all the lovely ladies (and Stephen) of SeverusSighs. The last line of this chapter is paraphrased from a screenplay by Kevin Jarre.

This chapter has existed in little post-it notes since the beginning of the story. And unlike other chapters that changed a bit as the story progressed, this chapter plays out exactly as it did in my head two years ago. I hope you enjoy it. We're getting very close to the end, and although I'm still hoping to have the story completed by December, I'm not going to rush to the end. Thank you all for your patience.

* * *

"So what do you think of the Cannons' chances this year?"

"Dunno," Harry said as he tickled the top of his pawn. "Haven't really been keeping up with it lately."

"Yeah," Ron said as he studied Harry's reluctance to make a move, "I guess you've been a bit distracted lately. You know, from the important things." Harry smiled. "So how is old Snape anyway?"

"He's good," Harry said, finally moving his piece. "He's been brewing this nutritive potion for me. Might help make me a bit taller."

"You're not that short. Well...not as short as you used to be."

"I'm not that tall either," Harry said, concentrating on the game. He was dangerously close to losing his queen, and he studied the board in an effort to save her.

Ron made his move instantly, his strategy seeming effortless. "You're finally taller than Hermione." He grinned. "Small favors."

Harry frowned and studied the board, prepared to defend his queen at all costs. He ran a finger over his last remaining knight and took a deep breath, hoping this move would be the one he needed.

"Knight takes bishop," he muttered under his breath, watching with wide eyes as freckled hands made a move he hadn't seen, had been too distracted to notice.

"Checkmate."

He watched silently as his king was destroyed, bits of powder scattering all over the board.

"Do you want to know how that happened?" Ron asked. Harry looked up and silently responded. "You were too busy worrying about your queen to defend your king. I mean, don't get me wrong, the queen's important. Real important. But the objective is to protect the king. Without him...the game's lost."

Harry watched as the white pieces on the board disintegrated, their ashes blown in some stray wind.

Looking up from his defeat, green eyes met blue, Ron's expression earnest as he asked, "Do you see what I mean, Harry?"

"Harry, wake up."

Harry inhaled deeply and shifted on the bed as Severus' hands shook him. "Severus? What's happened?"

"Dumbledore's calling us. Quickly now," he said, pulling Harry up by his arms to get him out of bed.

Slipping on his shoes and the robes he wore yesterday, Harry was dressed before he was completely awake. He'd just cleared the sleep from his eyes when he realized that this might be it: Dumbledore might be calling them to fight.

As Severus worked the last of his buttons, Harry put a shaking hand around the back of his neck and pulled him into a kiss.

Severus responded quickly, chastely, and said, "I believe he has news. If the Dark Lord were approaching we'd have heard an alarm by now." He finished buttoning his robes and took Harry's hand. "It isn't morning yet, so whatever has happened must be urgent."

Harry nodded, and the two of them left the warmth of their rooms and entered the cold dungeon hallways, walking side-by-side. The hallways were still empty, and Harry didn't hesitate to walk closely by Severus, their hands bumping in the dark until Severus entwined their fingers. Through the faintest candlelight, Harry looked down at their hands, then at Severus and smiled. His hand felt warm, even if his entire body was cold.

They climbed the stairs from the dungeons, and Severus quickly led them to the little room off the Great Hall—the same room Harry had entered with the other champions when his name had been drawn out of the Goblet of Fire. The same dark sense of foreboding he'd felt then overwhelmed him when they heard a calm, deep voice from inside.

"...all happening now, Dumbledore," was all Harry heard before Severus opened the door and Harry was forced to look up to see who was speaking.

"Harry Potter," Firenze said, regarding him with a nod of his head before he turned to Severus. "And your bondmate. Greetings, Professor Snape."

"Firenze," Severus said, greeting him with a nod, though clearly as confused by Firenze's presence as Harry.

"I'm sorry for waking you, but Firenze has news from the herd I thought you both ought to hear," Dumbledore said. He stood up from a chair he'd been sitting in and walked towards them; Harry braced himself with every step he took.

"Yes," Firenze said softly, turning towards a window to see the sky, "Centaurs do not normally concern themselves with matters as insignificant as a dark wizard." He paused and Harry looked to Severus, then Dumbledore, the three of them silent and waiting for Firenze to speak.

He turned from the window, putting his back to the stars, and said, "We have watched the sky for a very long time, Harry Potter. There is a darkness growing, something that will poison everything should you lose."

A choking, pregnant silence permeated the room, the unspoken question floating through the air almost a tangible thing. He didn't want to say it, didn't want to ask, but he knew he had to.

"And will I?" Harry asked before he could stop himself. "Will I lose?" He could not force himself to ask if he would lose Severus.

Firenze turned back to the window, his voice soft as he said, "We do not know. But he is coming. We can feel him approaching." He turned back to Harry and said, "Just one more day."

"How can you be so certain?" Severus asked with a sneer. "How do you know the Dark Lord isn't simply biding his time, gathering his forces—"

"We do not know for certain," Firenze said softly, breaking through Severus' consternation with a bow of his head. "But the signs are rarely wrong about these things." Harry watched as his gaze wandered over Severus, his eyes seeming to look more within than at Severus himself. Firenze frowned before his face twisted in sadness. Turning away from Severus, he looked to Harry, and for once seemed as though he wasn't sure if he should speak or not. The unmistakable look of sympathy caused Harry's throat to clench.

The sound of hoofs hitting the floor resounded through the room before the smell of the forest invaded Harry's senses. Staring at his shoes, Harry felt a heavy hand fall on his shoulder, before he was forced to look up.

"I am sorry," Firenze said softly, looking quickly to Severus, "but you are far more important. Surely you understand this?"

Harry's thoughts lingered back to just minutes ago, to a dream and chess pieces and a fallen king. His mind wandered to Dumbledore's office, to the chessboard with so many pieces gone.

He wanted to say no, wanted to insist that it wasn't necessary, that he wouldn't listen, that he would let the entire world fall to pieces before he would let Severus risk his life for his own.

He'd find a way, he thought, but until then...

"I understand."

Firenze nodded sadly before he started speaking to Dumbledore again, a ringing in Harry's ears blocking any sound from coming through. Suddenly the air in the room seemed much too thin, and Harry excused himself and was halfway out the door before he knew what he was doing.

As he ran towards the Astronomy Tower, he swore to himself that he wouldn't let Severus fall. Maybe he couldn't protect Severus himself, but that didn't mean someone else couldn't.

* * *

Severus paused at the doorway to the room, Harry's footsteps trailing away from him towards the Astronomy Tower. Though he wanted to follow Harry, he stopped as a sudden realization struck him like a blow.

He'd known this day had been coming far before he'd bonded to Harry, before he'd realized what the bond was meant to do. The odds of his survival had decreased dramatically upon the Dark Lord's return. Bonding with Harry had simply been the final nail in the coffin he'd built for himself when he became a Death Eater.

Severus had thought he'd made his peace with it long ago, but as he stood standing in the shadow of the doorway, he felt a different kind of determination come over him.

He would die tomorrow, that much was certain. But in all his manipulations, in all his struggling to correct the wrongs of his youth, he never dreamed he'd be such an instrument for what was all encompassing and morally right.

He would die...so that Harry would live. Harry would kill the Dark Lord and would survive, the world as they knew it would continue, and all that had to be sacrificed was his ridiculously small life.

Closing his eyes, a feeling of dread passed over him, not unlike the sensation when he had answered the Dark Lord's call. And though the dread remained, a sorrowful kind of contentment—peace, he realized—filled him.

Harry would live. What more could he possibly ask for?

Harry, who was every good thing he'd ever had in life. Harry, who had shown him love and kindness he'd never thought to experience.

He lifted a shaking hand to his face and clenched it into a fist as his feet began to lead him in the path Harry had taken. His entire life had been leading to this moment, to these next twenty-four hours, and he felt a purpose he'd never known before as his footsteps quickened, as the need to see Harry became absolute.

The morning light was barely coming over the horizon, and Harry was standing with his back to the door, looking towards the Forbidden Forest.

Just the sight of him gave Severus the strength he would need to face this day. The last day of his life. He allowed Harry to hear his footsteps, watching his shoulders straighten as Harry began to pull himself together.

Leaning against the stone, Harry turned to him and smiled. That smile took Severus back to the day they had bonded, the day he'd realized he was marked to die.

He remembered that day so clearly; how he'd mocked Fate, hated that unseen, cruel entity for forcing such a destiny upon him.

Looking out onto the Forest, onto unseen enemies, then at Harry's smile, Severus saw his entire life play before him in a flash. He saw himself as an angry young man, then watched as that anger continued into adulthood. He thought of how foolish he'd been to deny Harry when he'd loved him all along, how futile it had been to fight against what was meant to be. How wrong he was to think Fate cruel when he'd been given a greater gift than he could have hoped for. A month of happiness and contentment was more than most men had in their lives, and more than Severus had ever thought he'd have. Perhaps Fate was cruel to give him such a gift only to have it taken away so soon.

But he didn't care anymore. Not when he only had hours left to spend with Harry. Now, at the end of his life, he let that futile anger go and made peace with what he'd been given.

"Are you all right?" Harry asked, dragging Severus back to the present, where he was alive and here with Harry.

He suppressed a cough and said, "Yes. I'm fine."

Nodding, Harry looked down at his shoes and seemed to struggle with his words. He looked out onto the Forest, and Severus watched as he frowned and clenched his fists.

Not looking at him, Harry said, "You know I'm not going to let anything happen to you. We're getting out of this alive, both of us."

Severus smiled, though Harry didn't see it, and said, "Well if Harry Potter wills it, I'm sure it will come to pass."

"I'm serious," Harry said, turning to him with a rage Severus had never seen before, not on Harry's face. "I know what everyone thinks, even you, but it's not going to happen. Things like this, us, the bond, don't just happen."

"Harry, the nature of the bond—"

"I don't care! I don't care about the bond, and I don't care what Dumbledore or Firenze or Ron or anyone else thinks! You're not going to sacrifice yourself, not if I can help it."

He knew the argument was futile, and so Severus said nothing. He simply nodded his head, though Harry seemed to sense his dishonesty.

"You promised you wouldn't leave me again," he said softly, looking out over the trees, not at Severus. "Not if you could help it."

Not wanting this day to be spent arguing, Severus closed his eyes and told the truth. "I know what I said, and I meant it. I don't want to die, Harry."

"Even if it means things go pear-shaped after? Even if you get sacked and I get expelled?"

"Even then," Severus said, then put his hands on Harry's shoulders, forcibly turning him so he could look at his face. "I will defend you until the end, whatever that may be. And I have no desire to die."

"Then stay in the castle tomorrow," Harry whispered. "You said it yourself, your role in all of this—"

"No," Severus said, tilting Harry's chin upward, stopping his argument before it could begin.

"But the bond—the way it works, it's going to drain you!"

Just the thought of being locked away in his rooms while Harry fought for his life was enough to enrage Severus' temper and he growled, "I have been waiting for this day since you were an infant. Nothing, not even you, will keep me from it. Don't ask that of me!" Then his eyes softened as he took in Harry's face, his expression desperate and frightened. Knowing how difficult this was for him, he ran a hand through Harry's hair and said, "My place is by your side, and this...all of this has been a long time coming. There's no stopping my part in it. This is merely the final act in a very long attempt at contrition."

Shaking his head, Harry said, "You've more than made up for anything you did before."

Needing this to end, not wanting to spend his last hours convincing the one person he needed on his side of his place in all this, Severus gathered Harry in his arms. He remained stiff for a moment, the cold wind blowing over both of them, before Harry relaxed. Soft hair tickled Severus' chin and strong arms wrapped around him.

Neither of them said a word, both content to hold one another as the world continued to close in around them, their unseen enemy moving closer with every passing minute.

"Can we spend the day in bed?" Harry asked, his voice muffled by Severus' robes. "Like when I was sick? Can we do that?"

Mentally considering all the things he had to put in order, Severus said, "Not the entire day, no. But we can take an early dinner, and retire early."

"A late lunch?" Harry asked, looking up with a desperate hope in his eyes. He forced a smile onto his face that Severus found he couldn't deny.

"All right." Loosening his hold on him, Severus turned them to go inside. "There are a few things I have to attend to before I can lay about like a Gryffindor." Harry elbowed him in the ribs and gave a weak smile. "Why don't you spend a few hours with your friends?"

Harry took his hand as they stepped inside, away from the bitter cold that nevertheless seemed to follow them. "Yeah, I guess there a few things I should do, too. But I'll go to our rooms as soon as I'm done."

Severus hummed his reply, and they began the long walk down to the dungeons. Harry's palm was warm and sweaty in his hand, and Severus knew the students who had remained would be awake and about by now.

The warm, sweaty hand remained in his own as they passed the Ravenclaw common room, passed the Great Hall where they were openly ogled by students and professors alike, down to the dungeons where the Slytherins gaped at Severus and glared at Harry. Severus was amused at the stray thought that they were probably more offended by his lack of sensibility and cunning in keeping his relationship secret than his choice in partner.

But the hand in his was warm, and Severus was so cold he found he didn't care in the least. He cursed his own dramatics as Harry left him at his potions laboratory, and he had a difficult time letting go.

But he'd see Harry again in a few hours. There was still time yet. And so with the promise of another encounter, Severus allowed Harry to leave and the cold overcome him.

* * *

"So...what are you going to do?"

"I don't know," Harry said from his place in front of the fire in the Gryffindor common room. "I don't know what I _can_ do."

Hermione's brow furrowed and she concentrated on her hands while Harry's mind drifted over what was about to happen. There had to be some way he could save Severus, even if Severus didn't want to be saved.

"He has a point, you know? About the bond." She sat down next to him and crossed her ankles, looking as though she were weighing her words carefully. "If all this—you and him—were fated, if he's supposed to help you like this—"

"It doesn't matter," Harry said, interrupting her before he lost his temper. "I don't care about the bond. I might have to hurt Severus to kill Voldemort, but he doesn't have to die." And he wouldn't die, Harry told himself. He just needed to think of something clever. Anything that would help save Severus.

"I don't suppose..." Hermione said, before she drifted off, looking guilty. "I'm not saying this is a good thing, but...what if you stunned him? Kept him in a room somewhere?"

"No," Harry said before he even gave the idea much thought. "I wouldn't do that to him. I—" He wanted to consider her idea—it was the only good idea so far—but he knew he could never do it. Reluctantly, Harry realized Severus had earned his place on the battlefield tomorrow, and that it would be unfair of Harry to try to take that from him. To Severus, his entire adult life had been leading up to this moment. Harry would be damned if he'd be the one to deny him.

"I'm not saying it's the best idea, but if it would save his life—"

"I won't," Harry said, his stern tone directed more at himself than Hermione. "He has more right to be there tomorrow than either of us. And besides, I couldn't stun him if I wanted to. Stupid bond."

"Maybe Dumbledore..."

A sharp look quieted her, and Harry patted her knee with an unspoken apology. If Severus were a different man, he'd have no problem leaving him tied up in a room.

They were quiet for a few minutes, Harry struggling with what could be done, if anything, to save Severus. Hermione was fingering a frayed piece of string on her Weasley sweater.

In a flash he was removed from his own problems, cursing himself for his selfishness when he knew she was suffering, had been suffering for far longer.

"How are you?" At her questioning look, he added, "Really?"

"Really?" she said, frowning and looking into the fire. "I'm...ready. I know exactly where I need to be tomorrow, exactly what I have to do."

There was something about the way she said it that sent a chill up Harry's spine. "Oh?"

"Don't look at me like that," she said, though she was still looking into the fire. "You might not realize it, but I'm a decent duelist. Good, even."

Harry had seen her practicing yesterday with the other Gryffindors and had to admit that was true. "No, I know you are."

"I can't stand the thought of him...walking around, breathing, living while Ron's dead," she whispered, pulling at the strings of her sweater until they unraveled. "I feel as though I've been living in a fog since Ron died. I'm so tired all the time."

He put an arm around her slender shoulders, but she didn't yield to him, her body stiff and unmoving as she stared into the fire.

"I don't think I can move on until he's dead. Not properly. I feel like I owe it to Ron."

Harry removed his arm, and sat quietly as Hermione clutched her knees to her chest, the gesture looking so odd on her just then.

"Heaven help the person who gets to Lucius Malfoy before I do." She blinked just then, as though she was coming out of a quiet rage. Harry remained silent, not sure of what to say to her plans. Suddenly she looked down at her hands and fretted. "Oh, look what I did to his jumper."

Harry laughed in relief, then quieted when she tossed him an irritated look. "I'm sorry, it's just that you scared me for a minute." He had no desire to lose Hermione again, whether by her own death or by going to a place she couldn't come back from.

She looked down at the frayed strings and said, "This was Ron's. I'm wearing it tomorrow. Flying his colors, so to speak."

"Good," Harry said, as he mentally rummaged through his own trunk.

"Harry," Hermione said, looking much more like herself, "about Professor Snape..."

"Yeah?"

"I don't think you're going to be able to protect him. Not when you're going to have to work so hard at protecting yourself."

"I know," Harry said.

"Yes, but is there someone here you trust?" she asked. "Someone who cares about him? Someone strong enough, talented enough to be able to protect Professor Snape as well as themselves?"

Harry opened his mouth to say that no one could protect Severus like he could, but then shut it again, his eyes widening when he realized that, yes, actually there was someone.

* * *

Remus walked through the dungeon hallway, not bothering to knock when he came to Severus' potions laboratory. Let the lingering Slytherin students glare at him all they wanted, today wasn't the day to rely on Severus' goodwill.

He heard Severus coughing before he completely entered the room, then took in the large cauldron on his workbench and dozens of potion bottles all lined up to be filled. Though Remus knew he must have heard him come in, Severus said nothing, giving him a moment to take in what he was seeing.

"Are you stocking up for the winter?" he asked, though he suspected he already knew exactly what it was Severus was doing.

"Get out."

Taking that as the invitation it truly was, Remus stepped closer, seeing even more bottles of what looked like the same potion, already filled. His stomach sank a bit as he realized he was watching Severus make preparations for his death.

"What are you brewing?"

Severus' glare told him he thought it was none of Remus' business, but he blinked and looked as though he changed his mind. "Harry's nutritive potion. It has a thankfully long shelf life." He looked back at the cauldron and began stirring. "You might have to remind him to take it daily."

Remus' heart sank a bit at hearing that. "Why would I have to remind him, Severus?"

Severus' fist hit the table—startling Remus in how quickly he went from calm to enraged—and he barked, "I understand why Harry refuses to see the truth, perhaps even Dumbledore, but not you!" Meeting his glare, Remus said nothing, not wanting to remind Severus that he didn't particularly want to lose a friend. A moment later Severus broke his stare and began to stir the potion again. "You care for him, and there are certain things I must trust you with, this being one of them."

"Nothing is certain, Severus," Remus said, stepping closer, hoping to talk some sense into him. "There's every possibility that you might survive and _I_ might die."

"You can't die," Severus said, not looking at Remus, though his tone was certain. "Who would take care of Harry if you died?"

Rubbing a hand across his face, Remus struggled with what to say that hadn't already been said a dozen times before. "I don't believe you would be bonded, fated to be bonded, only for you to die so soon after."

Severus sighed. "We've already had this conversation once before. I have no desire to have it again."

"Severus, Fate can't be that cruel. It can't put you and Harry together for a single purpose that leads directly to your death."

"Oh? And you know this how?" he asked, his voice a low rasp. "Because your own life has been so fair? Is that how you're so certain?" Severus sneered and looked away, seeming to turn in on himself as he removed the cauldron from the fire. "I've made my peace. There are a few things that need to be done before Harry and I retire for the night."

"Severus..."

The cauldron met the workbench with a clang, and Severus looked on Remus in rage. "Most of my life has been leading up to this day. There have been far too many coincidences—Lily, the prophecy, Weasley's death, Harry—for me to deny it any longer. It is my _fate_ that I help Harry tomorrow. I've spent too many years trying to undo the mistakes of my past, and _damn you_ for forcing me to explain my life." Severus was panting now, his breath making odd sounds as it escaped his lungs.

Sinking down onto a bench, Remus concentrated on the wall while he considered what to do next. What did you say to a person who believed they were going to die? Severus leaned against his worktable, closing his eyes as he calmed himself, and Remus looked away to give him some small privacy.

"You'll have to have someone else brew the wolfsbane potion for you next month," Severus finally said a few moments later. "It has to be consumed freshly brewed. There's no stasis charm that will work on it."

"I know," Remus said looking up, surprised to see Severus look so nervous.

"I didn't have time to research the potion, to see if there was any way—"

"It's all right, Severus. I've gone without before."

Severus nodded and cleared his throat, that uncharacteristic nervousness looking so odd on him. Remus struggled with what to say that wouldn't infuriate him. Since he'd learned of the nature of the bond, he'd fought with the idea that Severus and Harry had come together simply so Severus could give his life. It simply didn't follow with what Remus knew of the world.

Just the idea that some amoral entity could use Severus until it was done with him and then throw him away; that something could manipulate men into doing its bidding, even if it was for the greater good, was too much to bear. He had to believe that Severus would survive, that Fate wouldn't just use him, not caring what would happen after.

Severus cleared his throat again and walked over to his desk, motioning for Remus to follow him.

"This drawer," Severus said, opening the top drawer and removing some papers, "will remain unlocked. It has all my papers—Gringott's statements, the title to my property, and my will." He closed it and looked Remus in the eye. "It isn't much, but everything will go to Harry. Tell him he can do whatever he wants with the land now that there's no house there. Sell it, build a home there for himself, it doesn't matter to me." He sat down in his chair and rubbed his temples, looking tired all of a sudden. "It's his to do with as he wishes."

"Severus..."

"Don't," Severus whispered, his hand still covering his face, sounding nothing like the angry man he'd been a moment ago. "Please, Lupin."

Remus nodded, then sat on the edge of Severus' desk, waiting for whatever would come next.

"There's one last thing I must ask of you," Severus said softly, his shoulders slumped and his expression lost. "I may not trust you with many things, but I trust you with Harry. I know you care for him..." his voice trailed off and he was silent for a moment, and Remus waited until he was ready to speak again. "You took care of him once on my behalf. All I ask is that you take care of him again."

Remus closed his eyes, attempting to quell his own emotions at Severus' request. He put a hand on Severus' shoulder, no longer surprised that it wasn't shrugged off.

"One day, when he meets someone else, you'll tell him that I would have wanted him to be happy," Severus whispered, perhaps not able to think of Harry moving on, living, without him. "When he feels guilt, and he will, you'll tell him that he was the one bright spot in my miserable little life. Tell him that he deserves every good thing, that I would have wanted him to have..." He cleared his throat and turned to look at Remus, his expression solemn and stern. "Swear to me. Swear you'll take care of him."

Remus didn't know what to say or how to argue anymore. All he knew was that none of this was fair. "I swear."

Severus nodded and _Summoned_ the stool Remus had been sitting on from the other side of the room, then opened the last drawer in his desk.

"I'm afraid all I have to offer is Firewhisky," Severus said, taking out two glasses that looked as though they might have held potions at one point. "You drank all my scotch."

Remus laughed and took the offered cup, and peace offering, for what it was: a last drink between two friends.

There were many things he wanted to say, but he thought the silence might have said it better as they sat quietly and contemplated tomorrow.

* * *

Harry paced the length of their sitting room with a nervous energy, and nearly leapt to the door at the sound of a knock.

"Remus," he breathed, standing aside to let him in. "Thanks for coming."

Remus gave a grim smile and quickly went to sit down, leaning over with slumped shoulders in Severus' armchair.

"Are you all right?" Harry asked.

His smile disappeared, and he said, "I've just left Severus."

"Oh." They were silent for a moment, Harry contemplating the fire as he struggle with how to ask his question. "He told you he's going to die, didn't he?"

There was silence for a moment before Remus simply said, "Yes."

Harry forced out a stifled breath and held himself still when all he wanted was to rail at something. "Did he do something dramatic? Give you his last will and testament or something ridiculous like that?"

"He showed me where he kept it, yes." Remus looked just as bad as Harry felt, but he still tried to rally a smile. "Let's talk about something else, shall we?"

Harry was thinking over the way that conversation must have gone, Severus giving his last wishes to Remus, so certain he would die. "So do I inherit all his potions bottles or something?"

"Harry..."

"He's not going to die."

"I don't want him to die anymore than you do," Remus said, reaching out a hand to grab Harry's shoulder. "I care for him, too."

"If he's your friend then help him," Harry said softly, preparing himself to ask a great favor from Remus. He looked towards the dying fire, chilled to the bone, the cold suiting his mood perfectly. Images of what might happen tomorrow stormed to the forefront of his mind: Severus left alone while Harry fought for his life. Knowing there was no way he could protect Severus and defeat Voldemort at the same time, he took a deep breath and turned towards his friend. "Remus, there's something I need from you. A favor," he said, meeting Remus' eyes. "A big favor." Remus stayed quiet, as though he knew what was coming, and Harry continued. "I won't be able to protect Severus, not if I need to be looking out for Voldemort at the same time." Remus' eyes became knowing and sad, and Harry turned away, not able to see such sympathy directed at him. "I need you to do it for me."

"I'm supposed to be flanking you, actually. Dumbledore's ordered me to remain by your side—"

"I don't care!" Harry shouted, then bit his lip and tried to calm his temper. "Do you really think I'm going to be able to concentrate if I don't know someone's protecting Severus? Do you think I'll be of any use to anyone?"

He watched as Remus considered this, cupping his chin.

"There isn't anyone else who's strong enough, who actually cares about Severus enough to protect him. Dumbledore's going to be with me the entire time, which means it has to be you. Please, Remus," Harry pleaded. "I can't..." his voice cut itself off as he considered the very realistic possibility that Severus would be dead this time tomorrow. Just the thought of it was enough to shake him to his core, and he struggled as he attempted to calm himself.

He turned to the fire again, away from Remus, not wanting him to see him so shaken, see how close he was to panic. Taking deep breaths, he said through clenched teeth, "I want you to swear to me you won't leave his side." The sound of shuffling feet had Harry turning to face Remus, his face pale, his expression lost. "Swear to me, please. Please, don't leave him."

Something softened in Remus' eyes, and he was so quiet that for a moment Harry thought he'd deny him. Though he knew he was asking too much, Harry held his breath and prayed for this one last thing. Slowly, Remus nodded, and said, "I swear."

Just then the door from Severus' office opened, and Severus walked quickly into the room, his eyes meeting Harry's. Without any consideration to how he and Remus must have looked, Harry forced his bravest smile onto his face and went over to greet him.

"Hi," he said with more enthusiasm than was called for. He placed a chaste kiss on Severus' lips, smiling genuinely when it was returned. "You ready for dinner?"

"Lunch is more like it," Remus said, rising from his chair and looking as though something important hadn't just happened. "I'm famished. Are you ready, Severus?"

Severus' hand found Harry's quickly, and Harry had to remind himself Remus was in the room to keep from forgetting about lunch and dragging Severus to bed right then and there. Instead he gave a small smile and gestured to the door.

"Yes, we can't let a wolf go hungry. Merlin knows how the cat population would begin to dwindle," Severus said, as they all began to move towards the door.

He and Remus laughed, sounding forced, but Harry was grateful for it; he was determined to make this night perfect, regardless of what would happen tomorrow. Closing his eyes as he stepped into the cold of the hallway, Harry gathered his strength and allowed himself to enjoy having Severus.

Even if it was for just one more night.

Forcing aside his fears, Harry listened to Remus chatter about some of the gossip he'd heard from the Aurors, laughing when it was called for and concentrating on Severus' hand.

As they walked up the stairs, Remus stopped suddenly on the top step, his eyes turned towards the Entrance Hall, and Harry noticed Tonks, looking tired and afraid, guarding the front door. Feeling the potential for a bit of much-needed mischief, Harry smiled before he could help himself and nudged Severus in the ribs.

Severus smirked and said, "So what was Tonks' response to your affections, Lupin? You never told me." Harry watched as Remus went a bit pale before he glared at Severus, the expression not looking half as terrifying as it did when Severus used it. "Have you still not asked her?" The look of extremely false innocence made Harry laugh and Remus scowl. "Well, there's no time like the present."

Pointing a finger in his face, Remus opened his mouth, then closed it a moment later. Looking back at Tonks, Remus threw back his shoulders, then muttered, "Well, why not then?"

Watching as Remus walked deliberately towards Tonks, Harry inched closer to Severus and said, "You didn't have to goad him, you know? I think he's wanted to do this for a while."

Severus stood behind Harry, wrapping an arm around him and said, "He wouldn't have done it had I not...encouraged him."

They watched silently as Remus scuffed up the back of his hair and smiled, everything about his demeanor nervous. Harry let out a long breath as he saw Tonks' expression change from terror to happiness, her smile something that couldn't be helped, even now.

"Admit it," Harry said, wrapping an arm around Severus' middle, "you like him."

"No, _you_ like him, and his happiness makes you happier."

"Shut up," Harry said, leaning his head on Severus' shoulder, not caring at all that someone was likely watching. "You probably do things together when I'm not around all the time."

"Perish the thought."

"Right. And you both have firewhisky on your breath because..."

Severus grunted and began walking towards the Great Hall, Remus running to catch up to them.

"So," Remus said, looking extremely pleased with himself, "in answer to your question, Severus, she said yes."

"That's great, Remus!" Harry said.

"Pity it took you this long," Severus said, his tone dry.

"Well, I suppose there's something about today that inspires bravery," Remus said.

"Is there?" Severus said. "Perhaps you should have saved it for tomorrow then."

"Too late now," Remus responded, the bounce in his step looking odd amidst the fear the pervading the castle. Harry decided he liked it. "So, I have a date, provided we both survive."

Harry laughed, genuinely this time, and said, "Things are looking up."

* * *

Sex with Harry was always an amazing experience for Severus. He never knew exactly what kind of sex they'd be having until they were actually having it. There had been nights of torn robes, buttons strewn across the floor and red nail marks on his back the next day. And there were times he'd been overwhelmed with love for Harry, unable to say with words what he chose to express with his body.

And there were times like now—very few times—when Harry was on top of him, inside of him, that Severus allowed _himself_ to feel well and truly loved.

It was impossible to feel any different, not with Harry slowly pumping into him, the sweat of his body revealing his exertion and how hard he was trying to keep his movements fluid. He'd perfected that roll of his hips since the first time he'd topped, and Severus spread his legs wider to encourage him.

"You're so beautiful like this," Harry whispered, and a part of Severus wanted to scoff at having endearments muttered to him during sex, but a stronger—or perhaps weaker—part of him couldn't look away. "I love you so much," Harry said, panting, sweat falling onto Severus' neck and chest. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

He searched his mind for something to say, anything, but then Harry stretched his body and sucked on his neck, and Severus couldn't be bothered to think of a reply. He absentmindedly thought of how their evening had begun, how Severus had been determined to give Harry whatever it was he wanted for their last time together. And though it still seemed impossible, Severus could no longer deny that Harry would mourn him. He'd think of this night in the days to come, and Severus wanted Harry to look back on it with all the wonder and amazement Severus could give him.

But he never thought this was what he wanted as well. No, the thought that this was exactly what he needed had never crossed his mind.

Feeling Harry's body, feeling every emotion that was raging inside of him, feeling the bond humming between them was too much for Severus, and he was thankful he could blame the sounds he was making on physical pleasure. He moaned as Harry's cock thrust against his prostate and he choked back a sob at the desperation, the feeling of tenderness and adoration that Harry felt towards him. It was simply too much. Men weren't created to take such passion.

Hands skimmed across his arms and down to his thighs, softly, not as Harry was usually prone to do. Harry's fingers felt restrained, as though he was holding back his fury, wanting Severus to feel his devotion and not his anguish.

Severus threw his head back, trying to gain control of his voice, to not sound as overwhelmed as he felt. The guttural cry that came from his choked throat said, "More."

Harry obeyed, and sped up his thrusts, his whispered words turning to near-sobs. Severus was lost in a haze of pleasure, but thought he heard "mine" and "won't lose you" and "protect you" and then "love" repeated over and over. The words merely served to punctuate what it was he felt from Harry, the bond singing its pleasure through both of them.

He felt himself nearing completion, his cock throbbing between their bodies, and he knew with one firm touch of Harry's hand he'd come. He wanted to delay it, freeze this moment in time when there was nothing between him and Harry, no Dark Lord, no war, no public threatening to come between them. Here, now, in this bed, was the only moment that existed. The only moment they were alone.

"Oh, fuck! Severus!" Harry cried, and Severus felt him thrust harder, then come dripping out of him, warm when he had been so cold. Harry's firm hand was on his cock, and then Severus was coming, his orgasm pulled from him far too soon, the moment finally ending.

He nearly mourned its loss, but then Harry was still there, on top of him and inside him and all around him. Severus pulled him down and nestled his head on his chest, allowing the blessed silence to sustain him.

His body was shaking, feeling as though he'd run all night instead of making love, and felt shaken to the core. Never had he felt so open, as though he'd been dissected and Harry could see every part of him.

He didn't even bother to pull himself together. Not now. Not tonight. Let Harry have this, have all of Severus. He'd give Harry everything he had left, everything he was to take with him after tomorrow.

"I don't want to go to sleep," Harry whispered, then nestled his head in the space between Severus' neck and hair. "Want to stay up all night and be with you."

"You can be with me when we're sleeping," he said, too tired to move, but holding Harry tighter. "You should rest. You'll need it for tomorrow; we both will." Severus shifted and felt that pleasant ache in his body radiate. He smiled and kissed Harry's head.

"But I want to stay with you," Harry said, then somehow managed to curl tighter around him, embracing him with arms and legs and chin. Severus didn't move a muscle, surprised at how badly he wanted to be held like this.

The silence continued until the afterglow faded, thoughts of tomorrow once again invading their privacy where it was not welcome. Not having any idea what to say, Severus remained quiet, holding onto Harry for dear life.

Perhaps sensing his discomfort, Harry suddenly lifted his head so he was looking at Severus and asked with a smile, "So...what do you want to do tomorrow?"

Severus scoffed, but played along, wanting to keep darker thoughts away for as long as possible. "You mean besides kill a dark lord?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, that'll only take us to what? Mid-afternoon?"

"You're being optimistic," Severus said, lifting himself up with near Herculean effort and laying a gently kiss on Harry's lips. "Supper time, I imagine."

"Then that leaves the whole night then. And we'll be hungry after all that victory." Harry's smile was brave, and Severus was thankful for the respite, glad that their last moments together wouldn't be filled with fear.

"You're right. We'll be famished. What do you suggest?"

"We should go out. Celebrate. Make a night of it. Everyone else will be too busy celebrating in their own way so no one will notice us."

Severus gave a small moan of pleasure as he twisted his hips, feeling the pleasant ache and the remnants that Harry had left behind. It was almost decadent how much pleasure he found himself taking from such a basic sensation.

"Was I too rough with you?" Harry asked, laying a hand on his hip.

"Just rough enough," he said, moving them so he and Harry were lying on the same pillow, looking at one another. "So what would you like to do tomorrow night?"

"Dinner," Harry said with a happy chirp that barely seemed forced. "And maybe a film. I've never seen a film. How about you?"

"We'll see a film then." He let his hands run over Harry's shoulders, their noses inches apart. "What sort of film do you want to see?"

"Er...probably not an action film. Those can be sort of...violent."

"Yes, I supposed we'll have seen enough of that this time tomorrow." Harry's hand found its way into Severus' hair and he began curling it around his ear.

"Not a romance either," Harry said. "They never do those right."

"Merlin help me if I ever let you drag me to some silly nonsense like that," Severus replied with a smirk.

"A comedy? A laugh will be good after all this..."

Severus saved him from having to say anything else. "A comedy it is then."

"And then dinner," Harry said, tracing Severus' collarbone with the finger he'd used to curl his hair under his earlobe. "Nothing fancy. Just fish and chips at a pub. With lots of ketchup."

"I thought you hated tomatoes," Severus said as he leaned over and kissed Harry again.

When the kiss ended, Harry frowned and said, "Not when they're in bottle form."

Severus laughed, nervous tension and silent fear pouring out of him at the absurdity of it all, and he wrapped his arms around Harry again.

They were silent for another moment, Severus' stomach muscles mildly aching from disuse before Harry—his voice muffled by Severus' chest—said, "Seriously, they're all squishy. I don't see how you can eat them."

Then Severus laughed again, suppressing a cough that was trying to work its way out of his lungs. He only released Harry when he wriggled free, kissing Severus with more joy than desperation.

And they talked quietly about nothing important at all, and Severus was grateful for every moment until they quietly fell asleep in each other's arms.

* * *

They woke to the sound of a blaring alarm a few hours later.

Harry was awake the instant he heard it, his eyes meeting Severus' across the pillow. A frantic heartbeat, then two, their eyes conveying fear for only a moment before they both tossed back the covers and dressed. Harry pulled on an orange Cannon's shirt he'd found in his trunk, Severus giving him a nod as he dressed in his dueling robes. Harry didn't have anything so sensible, but put on a plain black one, for some reason eager to dress the part today.

The alarm was still sounding in the background when Severus handed Harry a bottle of pepper-up, Harry taking a long drink of it before Severus finished the bottle. They stood in silence for a moment, their eyes meeting, before they kissed. Mouths found each other frantically, teeth butting against each other without grace as they said without words all that needed to be said.

Harry reluctantly let Severus pull away, his eyes giving a silent apology before he took Harry's face in his hands and seemed to prepare himself.

Thin lips pressed against themselves and Severus seemed to weigh his words before he said, "Do it quickly." When Harry frowned, he continued, "When you reach the Dark Lord, I will be able to shield your mind, but not forever. Do it as quickly as possible."

"All right."

Severus nodded, but Harry knew that wasn't what he'd wanted to say. The unspoken words seemed to be caught on Severus' tongue, but Harry heard them.

_I love you, I love you, I love you._

Closing his eyes as a soft shudder passed through him, Harry felt his throat clench so all he could do was nod. Severus released his face and took his hand before heading for the door.

The professors who'd stayed behind were already gathering in the Entrance Hall, and the students who'd remained were running to meet them. Harry watched as members of the Order and a few dozen Aurors opened the main doors and filed outside.

The cold air hit Harry in the face and he finally noticed Dumbledore and Remus standing in front of the crowd, looking out towards the Forbidden Forest.

They went and stood next to them, their small army gathering behind them, far too silent for having so many people. Harry squeezed Severus' hand before he released it.

"Harry, Severus," Dumbledore said, greeting them. "You both know what you're to do. Harry, stay with me, and don't leave my side. We'll have to cut through the masses to find Voldemort..."

He stopped suddenly, shaking his head at himself, at repeating orders to men who knew exactly what they had to do. With a sudden understanding of his role in all of this, Dumbledore smiled and looked over to the men who would truly decide what would happen today. He took a step back, his thoughts wandering to decades past, and looked over to Severus, Remus and Harry. Though they might not have been waiting for this day for as long as he had, he knew their lives had been affected just as much. With a surge of pride, he addressed them.

"Gentlemen, through all these years, through all my planning, I was unsure who would be next to me today. I couldn't be more proud to be standing here with the three of you."

"Hear, hear," Remus said.

"Thanks, Headmaster," Harry said with a smile.

"Thank you, Albus," Severus said with a nod.

They were silent for a handful of moments, and then Remus saw movement at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. He grasped his wand tighter, pushing away the nervous fear building in his stomach, determined to keep one promise so he wouldn't have to keep the other.

Suddenly there was a flash of pink in the corner of his eye, and he turned his head in time to see her. He looked away quickly, before he could be distracted, but couldn't help but be amazed that he had something else worth fighting for. And what a coincidence that hope would return on a day like today.

"Well, we had better get this over with quickly," Harry said, his light-hearted tone a bright spot in an ocean of darkness. "Severus and I have a date."

"Oh?" Dumbledore said with a smile.

"We do not have a date," Severus said.

"Oh, really? We're going to see a film, have dinner, then come home and have sex. What would you call it?"

Severus glared, but remained silent.

Remus chuckled.

Aiming his wand towards the Forest, Dumbledore said, "Gentlemen..." and Harry looked, watching as dark figures came from within. He quelled his fear, knowing it would only hurt Severus now, but couldn't help reaching out his hand for him one more time.

He chuckled, the sound filled with nervousness, as he said, "It feels like we should be riding horses or something."

"Potter..." Severus warned.

"No, really." Harry gasped for air as he pushed the fear away, readying himself for what was to come. "Ours would all be white, and yours could be black. It would be named Widow Maker or Satan's Thrall or something like that."

Severus scowled, then squeezed Harry's hand once before letting it go. Turning to look at him once more, he committed his face to memory one last time. With a deep breath, he readied himself for what had been a long time coming. Squaring his shoulders, he raised his wand and for the shortest of moments, allowed himself to remember last night.

It was what he'd take with him.

"Headmaster?"

Harry waited for Dumbledore to say something, waited for him to act. The figures were only coming closer, and Harry knew he had to push through them to get to Voldemort.

With a glance towards Dumbledore, he raised his eyebrows in question.

"Everyone!" Dumbledore shouted behind them, though there was hardly any need. "Remember your orders." And then he turned to Harry, and made a gesture with his hand.

Realizing what that meant, what all his training had been leading to, Harry squared his shoulders and pushed the remaining fear away. The first step down the stairs had never seemed so large to Harry, but he took it, knowing that though Dumbledore would be with him, this was a fight he'd fight alone. The thought sent a chill down his back before he felt the bond humming within him, reminding him that he wouldn't be alone. Severus would be there.

"Don't worry, Harry," he heard Remus say as they began the long walk to the forest. "You're ready."

"Indeed," Severus said, "the last charge of Harry Potter and his immortals."


	38. Pale Rider

My apologies for taking so long to finish this chapter. Illness, a complete lifestyle change, holidays and a brand new job all tried their best to keep me from finishing this chapter. Six months is an awful long time to go without an update, but this chapter was the most difficult thing I've ever written. Action is not my forte, but I hope I did the battle I had in my head justice. Honestly though, I don't think a day went by when I didn't think about this story and how badly I wanted to finish it. The next chapters shouldn't take long to write at all, particularly the next one.

As always, thanks to my beta Torina, who is currently sleeping on my couch after having listened to me complain about actions scenes for several hours. Darling, thank you for putting up with me. Thanks also to lemondropseven for helping with the action when I feared it never make it. Thanks also to shoebox for a last minute Brit-pick.

And thank you to everyone who's stuck around all this time. We're not long from the finish line now.

* * *

Harry clenched his hands into fists as fear raged through him, curling his fingers into a death-grip around his wand.. Aware that everyone was looking at him, he turned to Dumbledore with a silent plea.

"Keep your head about you," Dumbledore muttered so only he could hear. "Remember, we have only one objective."

"Yeah," Harry said, turning away, forcing himself not to look at Severus as they trampled over dead grass towards the Forbidden Forest. With his gaze on the Death Eaters in front of him Harry could only just see Severus' black dueling robes out of the corner of his eye, and his neck whipped around automatically when he saw Severus move away.

"Wait!" Harry cried before he could help himself, and he saw Severus turn his head just enough for Harry to know he'd been heard, but not enough to steal one last glance. "What about everyone else?" he asked Dumbledore, watching as everyone but Moody and a small group of Aurors moved away from them.

Severus and Remus were moving towards another group of wizards, and though Harry knew he couldn't have stayed with him it was all he could do to let Severus go. The desire to call out for him, to see him one last time, nearly overwhelmed him, but then Moody grunted and stepped into his place and Harry forced himself to concentrate again.

"He'll be fine, Harry. Remus will be with him," Dumbledore said under his breath as their pace quickened, and Harry was amazed that he had no problem keeping up with Aurors a quarter his age. A quick look to his left revealed what had become apparent to Harry in the last month—Voldemort was right to fear Dumbledore. If he was afraid he was doing an excellent job of hiding it, unlike Harry who knew he was revealing every ounce of his terror. "We must all concentrate now on helping you to reach Voldemort as quickly as possible."

"Do they know—I mean, does anyone know why?"

"No," Dumbledore replied, "but there was no reason to tell them. The connection between you and Voldemort has always been the greatest of mysteries."

"And what's between you and Snape is an even greater one," Moody muttered under his breath.

Not giving a damn what Moody thought about anything, Harry turned his head and tried to find Severus amongst all the black robes. He thought he saw Tonks' hair standing out in a sea of darkness, the figures moving farther away until the only thing Harry could do was wish he was with them.

"Pay attention, Potter," Moody muttered by his side, calling him back from his thoughts. Moody threw him a dirty look, then said to his men, "Remember, our goal is to cut through those bastards as quickly as possible. We have to get Potter—"

A screaming green flame streaked through the air, cutting him off, and Harry threw up the strongest shield he knew, ducking and shielding his eyes as the smell of burnt grass and singed robes invaded his nostrils. He heard someone screaming, and then Dumbledore was pulling on his arm, the strength of his shield putting Harry's to shame as he drove them forward. Moody and a handful of his Aurors followed, and Harry was able to look up through the shield at the Death Eaters in front of them.

The green fire was swept back, and Harry scanned the field for Severus. He couldn't see him amongst the black-robed Aurors and students, and after a few seconds he had to drive his attention forward again.

"Oh, God," he whispered as he saw Yaxley, Dolohov, and Rodolphus all approaching at a run, the forest behind them shuddering as the sky behind them went black. Panicking, Harry suddenly ran into the Auror in front of him, toppling over him. Looking up, he realized the world had gone dark for everyone.

A piercing scream sounded from across the lawn, and Harry tried to adjust to the darkness before a familiar hand gripped his arm and he remembered the Death Eaters who'd been approaching him.

"_Lumos_! Move, Potter," Moody shouted, dragging him by the arm so he was forced to keep up, Harry firing the most crippling curses Dumbledore had taught him into the darkness. His body tensed as he heard the Death Eaters moving closer, and he realized he would literally have to cut through them in order to reach his target.

His stomach churned and he gripped his wand tighter as he fired a curse blindly, screaming his rage. A blue light sped towards him, and Harry shielded himself and ducked. A heartbeat later he heard a scream behind him, then something warm splashed across his face. He spat, then wiped his face with a hand, the metallic smell churning his stomach and driving all higher thoughts from him. Only a wild panic was left behind.

Through the shouts and spellfire Harry heard Dumbledore muttering in Latin. He felt a charge in the air that had his hair standing on end before a ball of light illuminated the darkness in front of them.

Yaxley shielded himself from the Aurors and Harry fell to his knees. He fired curse after curse, needing to break through, needing to end all this. Harry took aim at Yaxley, then caught a flash of red spellfire out of the corner of his eye. He hastily threw up a shield, the sound of heavy breathing and crushed grass telling him Yaxley had fled. He thought he heard a dull thud as the red spellfire ceased, and then Dumbledore was tugging on his collar, Moody and his men—fewer this time—still attempting to make it to the Forest.

"Where did he go?" Harry cried out; he'd believed _he_ was Voldemort's prime target. Why would Yaxley leave while Harry was still alive, even if he was in a company of Aurors and Dumbledore?

"Quickly, Harry," Dumbledore shouted, a crack of thunder muffling his cry as Harry continued to race across the field toward the Forest.

They were nearly to the Forbidden Forest, Harry's lungs burning and his muscles aching under the stress of the run, when the first drops of rain began to fall. Looking up at the black sky, then to the growing skirmish to his left—still shrouded in darkness—Harry's knees nearly gave out under him as he finally understood what was happening.

There were no Death Eaters coming for them, and none behind them or surrounding them. The light Dumbledore had conjured was faint, but it allowed Harry to see what was around him. The path to the Forbidden Forest appeared to be clear, but then Harry had to squint through the rain in order to see them.

There, on the edge of the Forest, were a half dozen figures in black, all standing and waiting for something. Waiting for Harry.

A shadow passed over Dumbledore's face, and Harry followed his line of sight and looked to the field where Aurors and Order members and students were facing Death Eaters. With the aid of the conjured light Harry could see there were already bodies on the ground. And though the fighting seemed to stretch out all across the field, Harry saw that the Death Eaters were all moving to surround one area, where a small group of wizards...

"No," Harry whispered, rain impeding his vision, though he hardly needed it to know what was happening.

_Panic_

_Fear_

He pushed away from Dumbledore quickly and fell into the mud, his hands slipping into cold, wet earth as he cursed the day Severus told Malfoy about the bond. Voldemort knew exactly what he needed to do. The Death Eaters by the Forest only had to delay Harry from reaching him. They didn't need to kill Harry.

All they needed to do was kill Severus.

* * *

Severus let loose a curse as he felt the first sign of rain hit his cheek.

He panted as he felt the Pepper-Up potion already starting to fade, fighting back against a cough as he fell back toward the lake in the dark with Lupin and Granger by his side. The shroud of darkness the Dark Lord had cast served his cause perfectly: Severus could hear the confusion, the near-panic of the Order members fighting against their own fear as well as real enemies in front of them.

Though he'd realized the Dark Lord's plan the moment he saw the first wave of Death Eaters ignore Harry and come straight for him, it hadn't helped him in a fight where he was outnumbered three-to-one. His boot sank down into the muck and he concentrated on his shields, not able to spare an ounce of his strength to attack. And though he now knew he should have foreseen this, he couldn't regret telling Draco the exact name of the bond that day when things had seemed so dark. Not now, when Harry was so close to the end.

Severus coughed and caught someone as they fell against him, wishing he could spare the wand movement it would take to conjure a light. Not able to see five feet in front of him, Severus shielded himself and moved through the Death Eaters, no longer caring what Dumbledore had wanted. Harry was somewhere lost in the darkness, and Severus knew he should be by his side, not some pack of useless Aurors who wouldn't give a damn whether he lived or died.

He had to reach him.

He saw a chance to break through the gathered Death Eaters and took it, spitting out a curse that broke through some underling's shield. Severus shouted at Lupin to follow him, his eyes squinting to find the Death Eaters he knew lined the Forbidden Forest.

"Severus, I don't think we should—" Lupin said, panting, before Severus heard the sound of spellfire streak by his ear.

All eyes were upon him as he moved, and he wasn't able to take three steps before another Death Eater was attacking him. Severus barely remembered his attacker's name, and he was more irritated that he was being delayed by some nameless minion than panicked until another man joined him. Severus ceased attacking and concentrated on defending himself, summoning his strongest shields. Before the second man could break Severus' shield, Granger cursed him.

Her hair lay flat against her face and she stood gasping in the rain, giving Severus an odd look before she turned away from him.

"Listen!" Granger shouted as the rain began to pour harder, fighting to have her words heard over the wind. "Listen to me, everyone!" She cursed a Death Eater to his knees, and Severus saw the panic in her eyes when she pushed the wet hair from her face. "If you trust Harry, defend Professor Snape!"

"Stupid girl," Severus muttered as he cursed another attacker, coughing harshly and struggling to catch his breath as three more Death Eaters approached him with wands drawn. His eyes went wide as his throat clenched, his voice caught on a cough, realizing there was no way he could defend himself from three wizards in his current state.

He fired off a curse, casting a look around for Lupin, disgusting himself by actually hoping he was close by. His curses bounced off the Death Eaters' shields and Severus raised his own, his mind working furiously for some way out of this.

"_Stupefy_!"

Severus watched as one of his assailants fell to the floor, his shield having been dropped the second Severus raised his own. Not immediately recognizing whomever had aided him, Severus fired a curse against one remaining Death Eater and then the other, then fell to his knees coughing.

"Professor Snape!" The person who'd helped him rushed to his side, and Severus thought it was Lupin before he saw tattered robes out of the corner of his eye, trying to make his way towards Severus.

Casting a quick glance up, Severus groaned and said, "Merlin help me, I've been saved by Longbottom."

"Not yet, I don't think. Are you all right?"

Severus nodded and got to his feet, pushing off the aiding hands of the idiot who might have just saved his life. "Harry...I have to reach—"

"Professor, I don't know that—"

Not bothering to try and listen to Longbottom over the sound of lightning and spellfire, Severus pushed him away and turned back toward the spot he'd last seen Harry. His lungs on fire, he looked through the darkness to the dozens of Death Eaters that stood between himself and Harry. The bond was tugging at him, telling him to cut through the horde and aid Harry as quickly as he could.

"Professor Snape—"

"Idiot boy," Severus muttered before grabbing Longbottom and dragging him back to the water's edge, "what are you—" Out of the corner of his eye Severus saw the Death Eater Longbottom had stunned aim his wand at them, but Severus fired a curse before he could do any damage.

Severus seethed in anger as he cast a shield, his fist pulling at Longbottom's collar, and shouted, "Never hex when you can curse, you idiot!"

"I was only trying to help you!"

"You need to be helping yourself," Severus said, though he was grateful for the help; grateful that, for whatever reason, Longbottom hadn't left him.

"No, I need to be helping Harry," Longbottom shouted over the rain, "I trust Harry, and I guess that means trusting you."

For the first time since he'd met this boy, Severus met his gaze with something other than disgust and disappointment. The air was so cold; Severus was soaked to the bone and he had no time for a response but a nod before someone broke through his shield. He raised his wand again.

He wanted to glance back to where he'd last seen Harry, but Severus could no longer afford to look away. Granger and then Lupin came to stand by him as three different Death Eaters attacked, and Severus knew he'd need all their strength just to keep himself alive. His instincts kicked in, commanding his body to move in the ways it should as his heart seized at the painful truth: he would never see Harry again.

The final scene in his long act of contrition would be played alone.

_Fear_

_Panic_

Perhaps not alone, he thought as the other members of the Order came to his side. He felt Harry through the bond, their connection completely open, and knew that this was the best end he could ask for. He might not be at Harry's side, but he would not be overcome by Death Eaters before he could help him.

And there was only one way he'd be able to help him now. The bond hummed through him, but he knew it wasn't time yet.

Gritting his teeth against the pain in his chest, he let loose another curse and let the rain come.

* * *

Harry wasn't ready.

He knew it in his heart, in his soul, and most certainly in his trembling hands. More than anything he wished Severus was here, wanted to see him one more time before going to face their joint destiny.

"Quietly," Dumbledore said as they entered the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest. The few Death Eaters that had stood between them and Voldemort hadn't delayed them for long; those that Dumbledore and Moody hadn't cut down had run off to join the fighting by the lake. To fight Severus, Harry realized.

Harry's heart beat rapidly in his chest as he stepped into the Forest, trying to keep himself from making too much noise, dead grass and leaves sounding in the darkness as he tramped over them, his attempt at stealth in vain.

And though he could hear Dumbledore next to him and Moody somewhere to his side, Harry had never felt more alone than he did in the middle of all the cold and dark. The sounds of fighting barely penetrated the brush and high trees of the Forest, but Harry tried to listen anyway. He knew there was no way he could make out one voice in the midst of so many, but he tried hard to listen for Severus.

His hand gripped his wand tighter and Harry began to panic, realizing that this was it; this was the end, this was what he'd been training for, what Severus was prepared to die for.

And with that terrible thought coursing through his mind Harry stopped, his feet no longer able to keep him moving forward.

"Harry?" Dumbledore whispered, a hand reaching out from the shadows to find his shoulder, his firm grip the only thing keeping Harry from descending into darkness.

"I can't," he whispered in response, hearing Moody come up next to him. "I—" He shook his head, closing his eyes and turning his gaze inward, searching for that bright cord that bound himself and Severus together.

It was there, shining as brightly within him as it had since the bond had fully matured. He reached for it, wanting to find strength in it, but not wanting to take a thing from Severus. Not until he had to.

And if he had to...

"Harry," Dumbledore said, "we're almost there. All of this is nearly over."

"But—" he tried to get the words out, tried to voice his fear, but his throat clenched. He'd known what he had to do for months now. But now that he was here, now that he knew Voldemort was so close, he had no idea how he could do this to Severus.

"But what if I drain him?" he whispered. "What if he does die?"

"Potter, this is hardly the time—"

"Be quiet, Alastor," Dumbledore said, then two warm hands reached out to gently grasp Harry's shoulders. "Harry, I honestly believe Severus will not die."

"But you can't—"

"No," he said sadly, "I don't know for certain."

Harry's breaths came out in harsh pants as he closed his eyes and again felt for Severus, needing to know he was still there, needing to know that he hadn't slipped away.

"This is his fate, Harry, just as it is yours. What is about to happen" Dumbledore said, as a hand left Harry's shoulder, "the victory we've been waiting for will only happen because Severus loves you. His love, and this bond, is the power the Dark Lord knows not."

And suddenly it was as though there was a light in the darkness, and Harry knew what it was, what it would lead to. And though he'd always had confidence that Severus would live, he was paralyzed with fear.

"It's time, Harry."

"No. I can't." He stood still on the precipice, not seeing anything but Severus' life in his hands. "He could die."

"He could, yes," Dumbledore said slowly, "but from the beginning I've believed that Fate would not be so cruel. It could not award bravery with such apathy."

That made sense to Harry. It wouldn't be fair for Severus to have come so far, done so much, only to die now. But then Harry thought of Dumbledore's own experiences and knew Fate could be cruel.

There were voices coming from beyond the group of trees they were hiding behind, and Harry knew he was standing just a few feet from his destiny. Still, he couldn't go forward. Not if there was a chance that Severus could die.

"Harry," Dumbledore whispered, "it is your fate that led you here, your destiny that was prophesied before you were born." The hands on Harry's shoulders were warm where he had been so cold. "But don't misunderstand—Fate may have led you to this moment, but it's up to you to take the final steps." He gestured with a hand towards the light, where Harry knew Voldemort was waiting.

_Prophecy is not something that can be assumed or hoped for. It is an unclear vision of a future that may not happen. You cannot put such faith in it._

Severus' words from months ago rang clearly in his head, and it was only now that Harry was finally able to understand them.

Fate had brought him here, to this point, but it could not force him to take the last steps.

"The hand of Fate has intervened on behalf of mankind," Dumbledore said, "it brought you and Severus together for this reason. The question you must ask yourself is if you have the strength to see this through to the end."

And in a moment of clarity, the pause between breaths, Harry felt Severus' urging, his pride and encouragement. His love.

_Finish it_.

"Yes," Harry said, gripping his wand tighter.

Wiping his face with his sleeve, Harry took a deep breath and felt for Severus again, feeling his strength, his magic, his very essence within him. The bond hummed in reply and Harry felt as though Severus was all around him, _inside him_, and that there would be no stopping the two of them.

Together, they really were the most powerful wizard alive.

_Pride_

_Faith_

The emotions coming from Severus helped Harry to gather his thoughts, borrowing some of Severus' strength as he opened his eyes and straightened his back. Dumbledore was right. It was time to end this.

"All right. I'm ready."

"Good. I believe we're not far from our goal."

And the goal was to get to Voldemort, Harry thought as his feet once again began moving, almost of their own accord. He grabbed hold of his fear and thought of Severus, of how he was doing this for him, of how he was going to kill Voldemort and get back to him in time to make their date.

There'd be much to celebrate, he told himself as he broke out in a sweat. Harry would finally be free, but more importantly, the threat hanging over Severus would be gone. They could do whatever they wanted, whatever they decided...

There was a light coming from behind a copse of trees, and Harry's eyes adjusted to it as he paused. Pushing his fear aside, he thought of Severus and stepped through.

The first thing he saw was dark robes and Peter Pettigrew looking more ragged than he'd last seen him. And there, standing in between them, was a figure in robes so dark they seemed to blend in with the trees. Harry looked up into that terrible face and took a step forward.

"Ah, Harry," Voldemort said with a grin. "I'm so pleased you could make it."

* * *

Severus had made no headway from his stand on the muck of the lake, Lupin, Granger and a few others still fighting alongside him. His entire body was shaking now, and his cough was nearly constant, but he forced himself to remain on his feet. Harry hadn't made his way to the Dark Lord yet, and Severus would be damned if he allowed himself to be taken down before he could give what he needed.

His throat was hoarse as he fired curse after curse, and he saw Lupin and Granger cast more than one nervous glance his way. His strength faded and he fell back behind them, eager to give himself some reprieve, even if only for a moment.

Severus turned on the bank of the lake, casting his strongest shield around himself as he tried to catch his breath. Suddenly he saw a dark figure slowly approaching him, wand drawn.

He maintained his shield and allowed the figure to come closer, but made no move to attack. Instead he threw back his shoulders, letting Lupin and Granger watch his back as his eyes met Draco Malfoy's through the darkness.

Heartfelt speeches and declarations of Draco's unwanted and undying love were something Severus had no time for, but he paused as he watched Draco aim his wand at him halfheartedly. The curse that had been on the tip of Severus' tongue faded as he took in how Draco had diminished since he'd last seen him. His body was trembling, but whether it was from the rain and the cold or something else Severus had no idea.

"Severus..." Draco said, his voice just barely reaching Severus' ears over the sound of rain and spellfire.

Perhaps it was because this boy had once been his student and one of his greatest disappointments, or perhaps it was because Severus knew he was about to die. Whatever the reason, some unknown part of him felt pity like he never had before.

"Severus, please..."

Draco's hand was shaking and his eyes—even without the use of Legilimency—screamed his regret, his unspoken plea for Severus to accept him. Whatever the reason, Severus knew he couldn't harm Draco. In a moment of clarity he realized that if it hadn't been for him, he would have never had Harry.

Draco must have sensed Severus' reprieve because he lowered his wand with a hopeful glance, his eyes making some prayer Severus would never understand.

Severus didn't hesitate to stun him and bind him with the strongest spell he could muster, cursing himself for feeling the regret that it had come to this.

_We all have our part to play._

His eyes still on Draco, Severus only saw the green light of the killing curse out of the corner of his eyes, and he fell into the freezing muck of the lake to escape it. He heard screams coming from behind him and absently wondered who had been hit.

Lifting his muddied face, he looked and saw the unmistakable silhouette of Lucius Malfoy stepping over his son to come for Severus.

"It was my intention to miss you, Severus," Lucius said as he walked closer, his steps far too casual and his robes far too clean. Severus' eyes never left Lucius' wand as he stood, gasping for breath and gathering as much strength as he could.

Hatred cut deep into every line on Lucius' face, and Severus cast a quick glance around him, realizing that the other Death Eaters were giving them a wider berth. This was intentional. Lucius had wanted to find him.

"You ruined my son," Lucius said through his teeth, not sparing a glance for his fallen, bound son as he advanced on Severus.

Severus coughed then spat on the ground, forcing his body to obey his wishes and not crumple into a heap. Straightening his back, he looked Lucius in the eye. "You ruined him yourself," he said, taking no pleasure in Lucius' sneer and raised his wand. "What will he have left when the Dark Lord is dead and Harry has won?"

Even in the darkness Severus saw the grin his question brought out of Lucius, the glint of mirth that flashed in his eyes. "As I understand it, Potter needs you to accomplish that." He smirked and took in Severus' exhaustion, and Severus thought he might have heard his struggle to breathe over the bedlam around them. Slowly advancing, Lucius aimed his wand at Severus' heart and said, "Hardly a difficult situation to remedy."

Severus cast first, knowing that Harry hadn't reached the Dark Lord yet, knowing that above all things he had to survive until he had. Lucius' eyes went wide in surprise; perhaps he'd assumed Severus had been too exhausted by the other Death Eaters to put up a fight.

Brushing some muddied hair out of his face, Severus looked inward and felt for Harry through the bond. It vibrated warmly inside him, the strength he needed calling out to him like a siren. He steeled himself, refusing to use even an ounce of what Harry needed. Allowing the familiar sensation of the bond to hum through him, Severus reminded himself of what he was fighting for. That he had no option but to survive.

Quickly, he cast again, but Lucius cast a shield and stepped back, glaring at Severus for having the audacity to defend himself.

"Be realistic, Severus," he said, nearly stepping over Draco's prone from as he slowly moved away, "there is no possibility of that boy defeating the greatest wizard that ever lived."

Thinking back to what Dumbledore had said, to Harry's lessons over the past month and everything he knew about the bond, Severus was forced to agree.

But Harry wasn't alone. Severus, even now, was with him.

"_Sectumsempra_!"

Lucius cried out and clasped his neck to stop the flow of blood, but Severus had missed his target. Severus raised his wand to cast the killing curse while Lucius was distracted, but suddenly felt the shadow of a blow to his consciousness. A chill ran down his spine as he realized Harry's mind was being invaded.

This wasn't the gentle invasion that Dumbledore had performed in their training. Harry had reached the Dark Lord, and the knowledge of it caused a dark weight to fall on Severus' heart. He used Lucius' distraction to raise the mental shields that would protect Harry's mind.

_Sectumsempra_!

"Ah!" Severus cried out, and grabbed his right shoulder, keeping his wand raised as Lucius came closer.

"I've always admired that little spell you created, Severus." His hair was tinged red in places, and he looked as though he was trying to heal his own wound. "And so generous of you to share it with the rest of us."

Severus tried to grasp onto what was in front of him through his blurred vision, but the Dark Lord was bearing down on Harry with tremendous strength. Grasping his wand tighter, he concentrated on Lucius and cast another curse. Shielding himself, Lucius continued to advance on Severus until he was nearly upon him.

"I believe I'll enjoy—"

A blind kick left Lucius on the ground, blood pouring from the disturbed flesh of his wounded neck. Severus caught his breath and allowed himself a brief moment of concentration, ready to end this completely.

Lucius was gasping, still trying to staunch the flow of blood when Severus felt the bond open for Harry.

He gasped, barely able to find his breath so strong was Harry's pull on his strength. Sinking to his knees, he felt the world begin to spin and his strength leave him as Harry took Severus' own strength through the bond.

He felt Harry's fear and his regret, felt his determination and knew that this was what they had been waiting for. This was the end. He closed his eyes, looking inward and allowing Harry to take all that he needed, everything he had. Knowing that the Dark Lord was on the opposite side of Harry's spell, he gave his strength gladly. Freely.

A groan and then the sound of flesh meeting the cold muck shook Severus out of his thoughts, and he realized that Lucius had managed some level of healing on his wound. His hand still cupped his neck, but he stood and glared down at Severus.

"_Sectumsempra_!" Severus cast, but the spell was weak and Lucius easily deflected it. Panicking, he looked around for Lupin or Granger, but couldn't find either of them.

This couldn't happen, he thought. Not now and not so close to their goal. His strength was fading and he fell further into the mud, casting a shield around himself as Harry continued to drain him.

Severus gasped as he felt his shield fail, striving to find the strength to hold onto his wand. He struggled to breathe, his eyes searching blindly for a way to defend himself; anything to keep himself alive until Harry had killed the Dark Lord.

He couldn't fail Harry.

He tried to cast a disarming spell, the simplest of defenses, but nothing would come. Breathing in a ragged breath, he looked up at Lucius.

"I do hope I can return to our lord's side before he kills Potter," Lucius said, blood still dripping from his neck, looking down on Severus and aiming his wand. "I wouldn't want to miss the festiv—"

A green light illuminated the air, and Lucius' eyes went wide and then blank in the space of a heartbeat. Severus watched in amazement as his wand fell from his hand and he collapsed face first into the mud.

Hermione Granger was standing behind him, tears pouring from her eyes, holding her wand in a death grip.

Slowly she walked over to Lucius then knelt down in front of him, her hands shaking as she attempted to touch him, then seemed to think better of it. Her body shivering and hands trembling visibly, she addressed Severus. "I think—" she gasped, then looked down at Lucius' prone form. "Okay. I think—I'm finished now."

Severus simply stared at her, a part of him understanding what this must have meant for her but unable to give a voice to his thoughts. Instead he let his head fall into the mud, his neck no longer having the strength to support it. He thought he heard Lupin's voice before he closed his eyes and allowed Harry to take all of himself.

* * *

Harry shivered with disgust as Voldemort smiled then stretched out a hand. "How wonderful to see you again."

Harry's steps from the thickness of the forest were slow, but he felt himself gaining control of his fear with each step he took. Voldemort's twisted grin fell from his face as Harry heard footsteps behind him.

"Good morning, Tom," Dumbledore said plainly, his tone stern as he came to stand next to Harry.

The twisted grin came back to Voldemort's face, tinged with far more anger than it had before. "Unwilling to fight your own battles, Harry?" His hand gave a careless wave of his wand, and Harry felt the mental invasion of _Legilimens_. For an instant, Harry saw images slam to the forefront of his mind—his darkest fears of Severus' death—before he felt Severus' shield fall into place. Voldemort's face twisted in displeasure.

"No more than you, Tom, I'm sure," Dumbledore said, his eyes darting to the woods behind Pettigrew. In the space of a heartbeat, Harry realized that there was no one in front of Voldemort, nothing to stop him from ending this as soon as possible, without hurting Severus.

Swiftly, he lifted his wand, and shouted "_Avada_—"

Voldemort stunned him with a wordless hex, and a half dozen Death Eaters came out of the woods to stand between Harry and Voldemort.

Suddenly, Harry found himself in a duel with some nameless Death Eater, Moody and Dumbledore by his side, when he should have been fighting Voldemort.

"Bastard," Harry said under his breath, casting a curse and shouting, "why don't you call off your bootlickers and _fight me_!"

Voldemort responded with a dark laugh, moving farther away from the fighting, and said, "But Harry, we must give Lucius the time he needs to reach your sweet Severus."

Fear shot through Harry, and the curse that had been on his lips nearly faltered as he realized what was happening. Instinct took over as his mind worked to find a way out of this, find a way to get to Severus and rescue him from...

From what, he asked himself. The quickest way to save Severus was to end all of this as soon as possible. And the only way to end this was...

Three more Death Eaters entered the fray as he, Dumbledore, and Moody defended themselves, Harry nearly tripping over the body of one man Dumbledore had felled as he dodged a curse. Frustrated, he grit his teeth as he traded spells, blow for blow, with some nameless minion while Voldemort stood back and watched.

This was pointless, he thought. He knew what he had to do, knew what had to be done to save Severus. His heart twisted at the thought that in order to save Severus he'd have to hurt him, draining him more than he ever had before.

He closed his eyes for the space of a heartbeat and prayed Malfoy hadn't reached Severus yet. Then he felt for the bond. It opened for him quickly as it had in the past weeks; without question and with total trust and love.

Harry concentrated and pulled from it, blasting the Death Eater he was fighting against a tree. He heard a sickening crack before his body fell to the ground, limp. Severus' power was flowing into him, and Harry wasted no time in cursing another Death Eater to the ground.

With a quick look around Harry realized that Pettigrew was barely holding his ground against Moody, and Dumbledore was fighting Bellatrix. There was only him and Voldemort left.

The darkness of the forest surrounded him, and Harry took a deep breath as he realized the moment he'd been waiting for was here. Voldemort aimed his wand with a scowl, and Harry felt for Severus. He was weaker now, so much weaker than he ever had been before.

"Severus, I love you," he whispered, before he lifted his wand and took all the strength Severus had to offer. "_Avada Kedavra_!"

* * *

Severus shoved his hands into his pockets as they left the warmth of the cinema and walked into the cold night. Harry was a stiff wall of silence by his side for a few moments before he linked their arms at the elbow.

The silence continued, and Severus savored it, glad to know that Harry would be the kind of companion that enjoyed absorbing a shared experience as Severus did. They were walking down the snow-covered streets of Soho towards a cafe Severus had favored in his youth when Harry finally spoke.

"I thought we were going to see a comedy."

Severus smirked and could nearly feel the shiver that ran through Harry. Despite knowing his reaction was hardly from the cold, Severus shifted closer.

"We were. I changed my mind."

"I trusted you..." Harry said under his breath, and Severus almost laughed at the tone of betrayal in his voice.

"Did you not enjoy the film?"

"Oh, I did!" Harry cried, slipping his hand down Severus' arm and into his pocket to hold his hand. "I really liked it, but... Did it have to be so sad? I mean, poor Heathcliff."

"One of my favorite novels made into one of my favorite films," Severus said, savoring the feel of the warm hand in his own. "I could hardly pass up the opportunity to share it."

"Oh," Harry said, sending a quick smile Severus' way. The bond between them vibrated with a shiver of joy. "Wait, so it was a book? Does it end any happier?"

"No," Severus said, finally spotting the cafe they were headed to down the street. "It's far worse."

Giving off a huff of exasperation, Harry turned to him and said, "Look, the next time we plan on watching a comedy, we're watching a comedy." His false anger amused Severus, and Harry poked a finger at his chest. "I'm serious. No more of this 'ghosts haunting the moors' stuff. Agreed?"

Casting a quick look to see if anyone was watching—then throwing off his cares as he remembered where they were—Severus pulled Harry close to him, and placed a light kiss on his lips.

"Agreed," he said, lingering in the embrace, allowing his nose to touch the softness of Harry's cheek.

Strong arms wrapped around his waist and soft hair tickled his nose as Harry shivered in his arms.

"I can't believe we're here, you know?" Harry said, his voice a soft whisper in his ear. "I can't believe we both made it." He looked around the street in wonder. "It's like a miracle, and I'm just...so happy."

The strengthening of his own embrace served as Severus' agreement as he allowed himself to marvel at the truth of Harry's statement. It hadn't seemed possible, but he had survived. _They_ had survived and were free to live their lives with each other and in any way they cared. Looking out into the night with Harry in his arms, the future seemed so clear to Severus for the first time in his life.

His life would go on...with Harry. It still didn't seem real.

"It's like...I could just die right now, you know?" Harry said in a whisper, still holding onto Severus for dear life.

"What?" Severus asked, something about what Harry had just said raising an alarm inside him. It didn't make any sense. Harry hadn't been the one who was meant to die. Harry wasn't _supposed_ to die. His life wasn't a miracle, some rare, benevolent twist of Fate's whim.

It was Severus who should have died.

"I said I'm so happy I could die right now and it would be fine," Harry said again. Severus looked out again into the night and watched as the darkened streets of Soho became the muddied grounds of Hogwarts, streetlights and signs turning into the bright streaks of spellfire.

His heart sank and he grasped hold of Harry harder, not yet willing for the lie to be over. He closed his eyes and inhaled, trying to find the smell of Harry's soap and the dungeons and nearly groaning when he smelled the scent of blood instead.

His shoulder began to burn, but he kissed Harry's cheek one last time. "You're not going to die, Harry," he said in a whisper, "I am."

"Severus!" Lupin cried, shaking Severus back to a state of consciousness as he lay on the muddied earth. Pain shot through his chest and shoulder, and for a moment he wished he'd remained in the hallucination. "Please, Severus..."

Closing his eyes again—because he had no desire for the last image he saw to be Lupin so emotional—Severus coughed and gasped for air that struggled its way into his lungs. A part of him wanted to go back to the delusion again, just so he could see Harry one more time, but he forced himself to stay awake, not wanting to succumb to such weakness. He'd stay conscious, stay alive for Harry as long as he could.

"That's right, Severus," Lupin said, and Severus realized his head was pillowed on Lupin's thigh. "Stay awake."

But Severus could already see the light beginning to dwindle, and knew it had no bearing on any spell that had been cast. He closed his eyes, and wondered if he'd see Harry again, reaching out his fingers as an experiment.

Wet tweed remained wet tweed, not dry cotton, and Severus rasped a sigh and nodded to himself. The reality of the situation was far better than any lie his subconscious could create. All his past would be atoned for in this one simple act. And if that wasn't enough, Harry would live. It was more than he could have hoped for.

"Lupin," Severus said, doubting he would be heard over the sound of spellfire, but felt Lupin shift closer to him. "Remember your promise."

"No, Severus," Lupin said with a sob, and Severus reached out and grasped a cold hand. The strength of his grip was an embarrassment, but he felt Lupin grip his hand in return.

Severus let his head fall back on Lupin's thigh as his mind drifted to Harry, amazed that such a wonderful man had come into his life, even if it were for only a short amount of time. Severus smiled to himself, thinking that it had been more than enough, and let the darkness take him.

* * *

Voldemort cast the killing curse just as Harry did, and the green light from their wands again met in midair. His wand vibrated and Harry braced himself for the thrilling sensation of having his feet lifted from the air again, but it never came.

The light from his wand grew brighter, and Harry watched in amazement as it forced back Voldemort's spell. Harry grasped his wand tighter and felt for the bond, feeling how weak Severus already was and still taking more.

'This is almost over,' he thought, as though Severus could hear him. 'Just a little more, I promise!'

A spell light flashed out of the corner of Harry's eyes, but he saw Dumbledore block it, and strike Pettigrew down. "Don't let go, Harry!"

Sweat pouring off his face, Harry grit his teeth and closed his eyes, taking everything he could from Severus and feeling the spell grow stronger. Voldemort was nothing compared to them. Fate had been right all along. He could do this, _they_ could do this.

Opening his eyes, he watched as the light of his spell approached Voldemort's wand, and knew that—like Harry—he was powerless to release his wand. Gathering all their combined power, everything Severus had to offer, Harry closed his eyes and attacked.

"All this ends now, Tom Riddle!" he shouted above the fray, watching as Voldemort's eyes went wide just before Harry's spell reached its target.

There was a resounding boom and the earth trembled, sending Harry to his knees. His face hit the ground as he gasped for breath, the hum of Severus' magic slowly leaving him as the bond sensed that the danger had passed. Then he shuddered as the bond quivered inside of him as though he had stretched it farther than it would go.

"Severus," he whispered, casting one quick glance toward Voldemort to see what his heart already knew. Voldemort was dead. The prophecy had been correct, and the bond had worked exactly as Fate had said it would. A part of him wanted to laugh—or perhaps cry—with relief, but it was pushed aside as his heart felt a terrible shudder.

Severus...

Catching his breath, Harry quickly closed his eyes, looking for Severus through the bond.

The bond that had been so alive between them, this living, magical entity that had connected them, seemed dull and lifeless. Harry felt for it, trying to give some of his own strength for Severus to heal, but there was no response. The bond felt dead. Panicking, Harry concentrated harder, trying to sense something, anything...

And then he felt it, something that felt like a farewell. As though the bond had done exactly what it needed to do, had completed its purpose, and couldn't give anything more.

And Severus...

Harry took off in a run, not hearing whatever it was Dumbledore was shouting behind him, not caring that there might still be Death Eaters hiding in the trees and on the battlefield below. All he knew was he had to find Severus.

Exiting the Forest, he discovered that the light had returned. Hardly caring about the state of the battle, Harry ran head-first towards the fighting, not noticing who was still standing, looking for just one person...

He saw Remus first, then Hermione leaning over him, grabbing something from her pocket then leaning down.

Harry froze as his eyes confirmed what the bond had already told him. There, body half covered by Remus, lay Severus dead on the floor.


	39. What You Take With You

A/N: Many apologies for the lateness of this chapter. I seem to be saying that a lot lately, but a little personal tragedy stalled my writing for a while. That and this chapter had been so perfectly in my head for so long I wanted to get it just right. I also need to get my word count down because it was always about two thousand words in theory.

And this is the penultimate chapter! I'll wait until the next one to reflect, but gosh this has been a very long journey. My thanks to all of you who've kept up with it along the way. It's been almost three years, and we're not done yet. As to how long the next chapter will take, I'd rather not make any estimations. If all goes well it shouldn't be too long, but it's a chapter I definitely want to get right.

Thank you to Torina for betaing this chapter for me, and to RaeWhit and Clare for answering a few medical questions.

* * *

"He's dead."

Harry closed his eyes and gave a long exhale. He gripped the flesh under his hands tighter. "I know."

"I wasn't certain that you did," Dumbledore said. "I know your thoughts were elsewhere." He stepped into the private room in the infirmary, and Harry could feel him staring. "Though I believe it was completely understandable."

Harry bit his lip and concentrated on keeping pressure on Severus' shoulder, though it looked as though blood was seeping through his fingers and spreading everywhere.

It seemed as though he was still catching his breath from his run to the infirmary, though he honestly couldn't remember how he and Severus had gotten there. He only remembered seeing Severus' body lying on the muddied earth by the lake and thinking he was dead. No, it had _felt_ like he was dead, and it still felt that way. Even though he could feel Severus' heart beating with his hands, he couldn't feel him through the bond. And that sensation terrified Harry far more than any amount of blood could.

He was lost in his thoughts, and didn't register the pair of hands that was trying to assess Severus' shoulder until they were upon him. Harry jerked back and gave a small shove of his shoulders before he realized Dumbledore was just trying to see the wound.

"I believe I can take care of that. Poppy—"

"She's busy, I think," Harry said, looking back toward the door. "I'm fine," he said, though his chest ached and his face felt sticky. "His shoulder's...not so bad that I can't take care of it for a while." That wasn't exactly true, but Harry barely remembered nodding his head as he helped Severus' body into a private room while Remus levitated his weight. The smell of blood had been strong, and he was glad Severus wasn't aware of all that.

But there really was a lot of blood.

"Let me help, Harry," Dumbledore said, then removed Harry's hands with a small amount of force. Harry watched in detached horror as blood poured from the wound, and took Severus' hand, not willing to be apart from him.

Without thought, he closed his eyes and felt for the bond, frightened beyond measure that it still felt dead and lifeless to him, that he couldn't feel Severus at all. He barely noticed Dumbledore's soft singing, or how the tune and the words sounded vaguely familiar to him. He just concentrated on breathing, on not breaking into a million tiny pieces because Severus felt dead.

"There will be a scar," Dumbledore said, laying a gentle hand on Harry's shoulder, "but nothing too terrible. I don't believe there will be any lasting damage."

Opening his eyes, Harry watched as Dumbledore took a damp cloth and wiped away some of the blood that covered Severus' healed shoulder. Harry clenched the hand he held and tried in vain to find the three freckles he knew by name. Slowly, he lifted Severus' hand to his face and attempted to bring back the feeling of joy he'd felt on that day, eager to give something good to Severus.

He shuddered, and all he could feel was fear and a lifeless bond that was alarming him more with each passing moment. "They used his own spell against him?" he asked, for want of something better to say.

"It was Lucius Malfoy," said a voice from the door, and Harry was so disoriented he had to look to recognize it was Remus. "I tried to make my way to him, Harry, I truly did." He sighed and ran a hand through his muddied hair. His robes were singed and torn and covered in blood.

Severus' blood, Harry realized.

"I think they knew exactly what they were doing, keeping Severus isolated," Remus said, but Harry was barely listening. What had already happened hardly mattered when he didn't know whether Severus would live or die, or why it felt as though he was dead even now.

"It wasn't your fault," Harry said, and he knew that his statement was true. It wasn't Remus' fault, it was Voldemort's and Malfoy's and Fate's and his own.

He grasped Severus' hand tighter.

"It wasn't yours either," Remus said, then looked oddly at Harry before taking the cloth from Dumbledore's hand, folding it in half and wiping Harry's face with it. It was red by the time he pulled it away. Looking at Severus, he asked, "How is he?"

"I think he's dead," Harry said in whisper, surprised he was able to get the words out, but then Remus laid a warm hand on his shoulder and words flowed out of him. "I can't feel him. He was always there, in the back of my mind, even when he was trying to push me away. I could always feel him, and now I can't and I—"

His hand moved from his shoulder to Severus' wrist, and the room was silent for a moment.

"He's not dead, Harry," Remus said.

"No, he isn't," Dumbledore said, "and I believe he will survive. When you were injured and in the infirmary, I believe Severus had a similar fear. But he was patient, and refused to let you go." He stopped and Harry turned to look at him, wanting to believe what he was saying. "He will wake up, Harry, but he must recover first. You will have to wait for him."

"I'll come back to wait with you if you'd like," Remus said, releasing Severus' wrist and standing up. "I actually came for you, Albus. The Aurors have some questions—"

"I imagine they do," he said, and his voice sounded tired but triumphant. Harry understood why, knew that this day had been schemed and planned for so long that Dumbledore had every right to be as overjoyed and relieved as he sounded in that moment.

That didn't stop Harry from hating him just a little bit. He reigned the feeling in, knowing it wasn't fair and not wanting Severus to feel anything but Harry's love and comfort.

"I will return when I can," Dumbledore said, and he leaned over to touch Severus' uninjured shoulder. "Rest well, Severus. You've earned it." Then he smiled at Harry and left the room.

"I'll be right back, Harry," Remus said, "as soon as I can."

Harry nodded and watched as the door closed, then turned around to face Severus in the bed. His adrenaline rush from the battle had faded, and he suddenly felt exhausted and weary to the bone, his grief and fear crashing down upon him. He let his chin fall and he put a hand over his head, not willing to accept what he was feeling.

Severus couldn't be dead.

Not bothering to kick off his shoes, which were filthy with more than just dirt, Harry climbed into bed with Severus and let himself hide in the curtain of his hair. It wasn't so long ago that he'd been here, but last night felt like ages ago.

And something more than just the death of Voldemort had happened between now and then. Even now, with Severus lying on the bed unconscious, Harry felt like he was in a new world, and which he had no idea what would happen next.

Holding onto Severus with his entire body, Harry realized that most of his life until this moment had been foretold and manipulated by Fate to bring about a certain end. And now that end had come. Ron's death, Harry's friendship with Severus, Malfoy's obsessive, desperate move, even Severus' telling about the bond had all happened for specific reasons. Harry's life had had a purpose, and even though he had been afraid to face his destiny some small part of him had believed that what he set out to accomplish would happen.

It made sense, he realized. If any part of him hadn't believed he could kill Voldemort he doubted he'd have had the strength to step out onto the battlefield.

Harry's life and his bond with Severus had all been part of a great plan. If Severus died it would be more than devastating. It would be like a promise had been broken. How could Fate have given him this man, this gift, only to take it away from him after a few months?

And what would he have left if Severus died? Nothing, he responded to his own question. There was no great plan anymore, no grand destiny he had to fulfill. Severus' room in the infirmary was silent, with none of Fate's whispered words trickling into his mind. He'd done what he was born to do, and maybe Severus had too.

So what did that leave them with? He shuddered again as he closed his eyes and felt for the bond, only to sense the same lifeless response for his efforts.

The Hero and the Spy, Harry thought. What would they be now that they'd completed their tasks? What if this was Fate's plan all along? Severus had certainly seemed to think so.

What would be left for them, Harry wondered.

He let his head fall down to Severus' chest, and listened for his heartbeat. It was stable and strong, and Harry closed his eyes and again reached out to Severus through the bond. It remained still and lifeless, but Harry didn't stop, wrapping himself tighter around Severus. He was not willing to give up, not where Severus was involved.

He laid incredibly still for some time, resolved to not open his eyes, to not move at all until he felt something. Minutes passed and Harry remained still, pouring all his strength into the bond.

And there, somewhere in the darkness, he felt Severus. He was weak, and the bond between them was weaker, but he was there. The slightest flicker burst in Harry's consciousness, and he knew Severus was alive.

A stifled sob erupted from Harry, and he leaned up and opened his eyes, kissing Severus' face as he continued to give back the strength he had taken.

What did they have to live for, he asked himself again. "Dinner," he said aloud, "and a film." And that would have to be enough for right now.

* * *

Harry barely registered the sounds of the door opening and soft footsteps entering the room when he heard them several hours later. He was too busy concentrating, trying to find some way to measure the bond's strength and sense if it was getting any stronger.

"Has there been any change?" Remus asked.

"He's alive," Harry croaked, and even he could hear the wonder and relief in his voice.

Remus walked the few steps separating them and sat down in the chair by Severus' bed.

"And he wasn't before?"

"No," Harry said, still not opening his eyes. "He wasn't." Slowly, he turned his head and looked over at Remus, noticing how exhausted he looked, how his robes still bore the signs of the battle.

He looked confused, but then he smiled at Harry and said, "Well, that's an improvement, isn't it?" Harry smiled in return and Remus asked, "And how are you?"

Pillowing his head on Severus' chest so he could comfortably look at Remus, Harry said, "Also alive." He propped himself up on his elbow to talk with Remus face-to-face, but he caught a glimpse of Severus' healed shoulder and couldn't help the way his fingers ran over the scar.

The fear he felt at Severus' unconsciousness faded for a moment as a flash of recent memory entered his mind. He hadn't noticed it at the time—he'd only had eyes for Severus seemingly dead atop Remus' lap—but in his mind's eye he saw a distinctive flash of blood-covered white-blond hair, and the person it belonged to lying face-down in the mud.

"Lucius Malfoy is dead?" Harry asked, surprised that it only now occurred to him to ask, especially since he'd known it was Malfoy who'd targeted Severus in the first place.

"Yes," Remus said with some hesitation. "Thankfully before he could harm Severus any more. Draco's being questioned by the Aurors, and I believe he'll be in Ministry custody by the end of the night."

Laying his face on Severus' shoulder, Harry shuddered and felt again for the bond; he thought it might be slightly stronger than it had been a few moments ago. "At least Lucius Malfoy will never be able to hurt him again." Then, in a soft voice he said, "Maybe I shouldn't be, but I'm glad Severus killed him."

Remus cleared his throat, and said, "He was a terrible man, Harry, who did terrible things. I wasn't far from where Severus was, and I saw him step over his own bound son just to get to Severus all the quicker. But...Severus didn't kill Lucius."

Harry lifted his head at that. "You?"

Remus shook his head in response. "Hermione."

The name shook something inside of Harry, something that had been completely swallowed by his fear until now. He looked up at Remus, feeling as if it was the first time he'd spoken to him since the battle. "What?"

"Lucius had the upper hand. Severus had already been weakened by the time Lucius got to him, and he would have killed him if Hermione hadn't gotten there first."

The thought that Hermione had killed a man was something Harry couldn't fathom. He couldn't wrap his own mind around the fact that he'd killed a living thing, let alone the idea that Hermione had as well.

"Everything feels so different," he said.

"Yes," Remus said, then shuffled in his seat, obviously uncomfortable. "Everything's changed now." He gave Harry a grim look, then forced himself from the darkness of their conversation. "Once Severus wakes up, what will the two of you do?"

"Do?" Harry asked.

"Everyone's waiting for you both. Everyone knows about what you did, about the bond." Harry must have revealed every ounce of terror that statement created on his face because Remus held up a hand and said, "Not one person has said anything against the two of you, I assure you. Dumbledore told the Ministry and press a love story."

"Love story?" Harry repeated, terrified.

Remus nodded, but there was a bit of mischief in it. "Has them eating out of the palm of his hand. Told them about the prophecy and how the bond entered into it, and how it took time for you and Severus to come together the way you did." Remus smiled a bit at that.

"God," Harry whispered, still unable to fathom how the entire world had changed in half a day. Everyone knew about the two of them. The question of what would happen to them now suddenly seemed to have a darker answer.

"Harry?"

"Everything's different," Harry said again. Severus' prone form and the weakness of the bond took so much of his concentration that he was barely able to comprehend everything else. That was the one thing that stood out.

"But that's a good thing," Remus said, and Harry picked up on his worried tone. "Voldemort's dead, Harry. The shadow that hung over yours and Severus' lives is gone completely."

"Yes, but..." Harry scratched his face, and looked down at Severus. His face was flushed and he looked somehow weaker than he had an hour ago. He closed his eyes and felt again for the bond, sure now that it was stronger than it had been. He didn't understand what could be happening or whether or not Severus was recovering at all.

"Harry?"

"What is there for us now?" he asked, looking at Remus, feeling completely lost. "For most of my life—for half of Severus' life—we've had this prophecy hanging over us. There was always this madman that we had to defeat. And I _was_ afraid of dying, Remus, I really was. But some small part of me thought—_knew_—that there was no way Severus and I could lose. That this was what we were made to do. Now that that's gone, I—"

He drifted off and looked down at Severus again, playing with one of the buttons on his dueling robes. He should probably change him into something more comfortable soon. Severus would have never left Harry in soiled robes for so long.

"You don't know what's left for you to do now?"

Harry started and looked over at Remus, processing his words for a moment before nodding. "Everything was just so big, the consequences were always so dire and now—"

"Now you're just two men with the rest of your lives ahead of them?"

Frowning, Harry closed his eyes and felt for the bond as an automatic response.

"Because you do," Remus said, and Harry could hear the smile in his voice. "I believe Severus will wake up soon, Harry, and when he does you're going to have a very long conversation on what exactly you'll do next." He stood from his chair and placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. "I imagine it will be very odd for the both of you. Transitioning from the life of the hunted hero and the spy into two ordinary men. But the best part of being an ordinary man is that you, and only you, get to decide how you'll live your life."

"Like Fate's done with us," Harry said. "We did the job we were supposed to do and now..."

"And now you get to enjoy your reward." He let his hand rest on Severus' shoulder and sighed. "I know I'll enjoy mine."

Not knowing exactly what Remus meant by that, Harry looked up with a questioning look on his face. His eyes searched Remus' for a few moments before he finally thought to ask, "How's Tonks?"

A slight smile graced Remus' face before he said, "She'll be fine. Harry, I want you to understand something. You and Severus both."

"Yeah?"

"You're not done. In fact, you've barely even started." He squeezed Severus' uninjured shoulder before turning away. "Be sure he knows that, as well." With a parting smile and a promise to return later, Remus left, closing the door behind him.

With a sigh, Harry turned to Severus and wiped a bit of sweat off his brow. Running his fingers over Severus' cheekbones, he thought that seventeen shouldn't possibly feel this old. And he shouldn't feel this alone, not when his bondmate was alive and beneath him. The fear returned to him, and he clutched at Severus, eager to let him feel love and peace and the knowledge that it was safe to wake up.

He pulled away and looked down again, but Severus looked even worse now. He was warm, his skin was clammy, and Harry knew he had to be uncomfortable in those robes. First things first, Harry thought, and set about to find some sleepwear Severus would be comfortable in.

* * *

Harry was perched on the side of Severus' bed the next day, removing the tomato from a sandwich the house-elves had given him, when he heard a soft knock on the door.

Not wanting to separated from Severus, he called out, "Yes?"

"Harry? Can I come in?" Hermione asked, her voice clear through the door.

"Yeah," he said and looked back to make sure the sheets were still covering Severus' bare legs. The door opened, and when Harry looked up he was treated to a sight he hadn't seen before. At least, not for a very long time.

Hermione closed the door behind her and just stood there for a moment, no doubt taking in Severus' ill pallor and Harry's sleep deprivation, giving Harry a moment to take her in. It was like he was looking at a different person than the one he'd known for the past six months. The sadness that had hung about her had lifted, and in its place there was a confidence that he'd never seen in her before.

She had never been shy or soft-spoken, especially in classes. But there was a difference between the cleverness she'd known she possessed before and the radiance around her now. Whatever had happened to her on the battlefield yesterday had changed something in her completely. Much as it had Harry.

_Everything's different_, he thought again. A voice in his head that sounded a lot like Remus reminded him that might not be such a bad thing.

His stare must have been off-putting because she slowly made her way over to the chair by Severus' bed and gave him a questioning look before she sat down. He put his sandwich away and leaned back on Severus before he said, "Hi."

"Hi," she said, and the soft smile she gave him was the same as it always had been. "How are you? Remus said you were fine, but Professor Snape..." She trailed off and looked past Harry to Severus on the bed. "How is he? The Death Eaters were relentless, Harry. You would have been horrified at how they targeted—"

"I heard you held them off well enough," Harry said, reaching out for her hand. "I heard what you did. What you had to do." He paused and thought for a moment about what would have happened had Hermione not been there to kill Malfoy at exactly the right second. "Thank you," he said, gripping her hand tighter, willing her to know how much he meant the words.

Hermione paled and took her hand back, not meeting Harry's eyes.

"I was in the right place at the right time. Remus would have done the same," she said.

"Yeah, but it was you who did it. If it hadn't been for you Severus would be dead." The finality of the statement caused a chill to go up Harry's spine.

"I know," she whispered, and the confidence that had been all around her faded a bit. "I'm glad he's alive. I'm glad I was able to help him, and I'm glad for you, Harry, but..."

A tremble in her lip had Harry taking her hand again, and he leaned further against Severus for support. "But what?"

"I didn't do it for him," she whispered, "and I didn't do it for you either. I didn't kill Lucius Malfoy to save anyone. I did it because he killed Ron, and because he deserved it."

The chill returned as he took in Hermione's confession. He wasn't certain what he should say to that, wasn't certain what to tell her let alone how he felt about it. Lucius Malfoy had been a murdering bastard, and Hermione of all people had a right to see him dead. But the difference in Hermione's composure seemed different now, and Harry wasn't sure how to take it.

"I'm not sorry I did it," she said. "I don't feel any guilt over it. I feel like Ron can really rest now that his murderer's dead, and I feel like...I can move on." She bowed her head slightly before she said, "But I feel like I should feel terrible, and it bothers me that I don't."

"You feel guilt over not feeling any guilt?"

"Oh, yes," Hermione said in a gush of breath, and Harry relaxed, feeling like he hadn't lost his friend after all. "Any decent person would be devastated after what I did! But I'm not."

"I'm not either," Harry admitted, glad he was able to acknowledge his own lack of guilt for the first time.

Hermione's eyes went wide as though she only now realized what Harry had had to do, what he'd been expected to do since the Prophecy had first been uttered. "Oh, I'm so sorry. Of course you must be feeling... But he was different, Harry. He was barely human, and he was evil, and—"

"And Lucius Malfoy was a model citizen? I still feel the same way you feel. I don't feel guilty for killing him, I can't lie about that." Harry let out a gush out breath and looked down at Severus' face. "Severus would probably say of all people those two needed to die. But I do feel like I should feel guilty. And I think that's what makes the difference."

Hermione bit her lip and sat back in her chair, and Harry could see that his words had comforted her.

"How is he?" she asked again, and this time he could tell she wanted an answer.

"I don't know," he said. "The bond felt dead before."

"And now?"

"It's stronger, but Severus still feels so weak. He's not waking up." He took Severus' hand in his own and felt for the bond as a reflex. "I don't know what I'll do if he doesn't wake up."

Then she was taking his hand in her own again. "He will." Her consoling smile was soon replaced by a mischievous one. "Professor Dumbledore's told everyone a very interesting story."

"Yeah, I bet."

Severus let out a harsh breath in his sleep, and Harry gripped his hand tighter.

"Do you want me to call Madam Pomfrey?"

Harry closed his eyes and felt for the bond, but he knew already that it felt stronger than before. He couldn't guess why Severus wasn't waking up.

"Yeah," he said, even now hearing the bustling of the infirmary as Pomfrey and other medi-wizards tended to the wounded. "She might be a while. I'm pretty sure Dumbledore told her Severus' injury wasn't something she could fix."

"Still," Hermione said, and gave Harry's shoulder a squeeze before she pulled away. "She should see him. And you too."

With that, she left the room, and Harry could imagine the lengths she would have to go to to get a medi-wizard just to speak to her.

Harry suddenly felt exhausted, the stress from the last day falling upon him in a rush. Sandwich forgotten, he curled up around Severus' side, placed his head on his chest, and fell asleep.

* * *

"You look lost, mate."

Harry shifted in his chair and allowed himself to take his eyes off Severus long enough to acknowledge Ron. "Yeah," was all he felt comfortable saying. His throat felt raw and his voice underused. Severus was sweating.

"Are you feeling lost because of him," he gestured to Severus, "or because of, you know—"

"A little bit of both, actually."

Ron was quiet for a minute, the soft candlelight in the room barely illuminating his face.

"Harry," he said, and the tone in which he said it forced Harry to look at him. "I don't think you realize how lucky you are. You survived."

Harry bristled a bit at that; Ron was making it seem like he wasn't grateful to be alive. "I know exactly how lucky I am."

"No, you don't," Ron said. "_You_ survived. _He_ survived. I wasn't so lucky. Hermione wasn't so lucky."

Harry bowed his head at that, a bit ashamed of himself but still feeling as though his emotions were justified. Maybe he had his entire life in front of him, but what did that matter when his destiny had already been fulfilled? "I know, I know, I _know_."

Ron must have been reading his mind, because he said, "I don't think every person has some great destiny. Seems to me like everyone just kind of lives their lives as best they can. Try to be happy, you know? And can you honestly tell me fulfilling this grand destiny of yours has made you happy? Did you ever really want it?"

"No," Harry said plainly, not bothering to expand upon it. Ron had always known he'd never wanted the cards he'd been dealt.

"Well, good then. It's over now. The burden of it, everything you've had to live with for years, it's all gone," he said with a smile, like it was really that easy.

Maybe it could be for Ron, but the darkness of the room seemed to crowd around Harry, and the light seemed dimmer.

"Maybe you're right," Harry said, but his heart still held its doubts. "It's just that right now..." he looked down towards his still sleeping Severus. "Everything seems so dark."

"Yeah, well, Harry," Ron said, waiting to continue until he met his eyes, "in the beginning, it's always dark."

They were silent for a few moments, and Harry looked down at Severus, his hand warm and sweaty. The bond felt stronger now, but still Severus seemed to be getting worse.

"How is he?" Ron asked.

"He's not waking up." He closed his eyes and felt Severus struggling, felt as though something was wrong. "And if he doesn't, all this talk about moving on and living isn't going to mean a damn thing."

Ron looked like he might have wanted to protest that, but he didn't. Instead he concentrated on Severus' face, then leaned closer towards the bed. "Do you hear that?"

"What?" Harry frowned and tried to look at whatever Ron was looking.

"That sound," Ron said, his ear close to Severus. "Don't you hear that?"

Harry opened his eyes, his head pillowed on Severus' chest, and was assaulted by the sound of a weak gargling. His heartbeat faltered and he closed his eyes and listened again.

It sounded like there was water in Severus' chest.

Alert and alarmed now, Harry spelled up the lights and threw opened the door, taking in the barely-restrained chaos in the main room of the infirmary. There were wounded Aurors, students, and Order members filling the beds, and Harry struggled to locate Madam Pomfrey in the hustle of healers.

"Potter?"

"Madam Pomfrey," Harry breathed, his hand on her shoulder, "please come quick. There's something wrong."

Her eyes turned to scan the number of beds lining the walls, but she followed him regardless. "The headmaster told me his injury could only be fixed by magic, otherwise I would have attended to him sooner."

"I thought so, too," he said, coming into Severus' room and hovering over his bed as Madam Pomfrey waved her wand. He took in Severus' pale face and could feel his distress, something he hadn't felt before now. He ran a hand through his hair as he waited for Madam Pomfrey to tell him what was wrong.

Her scan must have revealed something because she paled before lowering her head to listen to his chest, just as Harry had a few moments before.

"Merciful Merlin," she muttered, then _Summoned_ a few potions that quickly flew into her hand. "Oh, Severus, I'm sorry I didn't see you sooner." Her words had Harry stunned and glued to the spot, an icy chill traveling down his spine as he watched her pour potions down his throat. "Help me lift him, Potter."

The command jolted Harry aware and he lifted Severus' shoulders effortlessly while Madam Pomfrey gave him another potion.

"That's right, Severus, wake up now. Cough."

The raspy breathing became louder before Severus sounded as though he was trying to take a deep breath, but instead gave a raspy, deep cough that sounded horrible to Harry.

"What's wrong with him? Was he cursed?"

"No, he's developed pneumonia. He gets a terrible upper respiratory infection every year, and it's settled in his lungs now. It's my fault, I should have—" She must have noticed how horrified Harry looked, because she paused for a moment and said, "He gets ill every winter, Potter. You're in for quite a treat." She smiled softly and said, "I believe he'll be fine, now that he's being treated. We just need to get some stronger potions into him."

Harry sat down on the bed behind Severus, still propping him up and holding onto his chest as though he could remove the fluid in his lungs that way.

"He'll be all right?" he asked, afraid of the answer.

"I think so. There's a potion in my office that he needs. I'll be right back." She smiled at them both as she closed the door.

His body shaking, Harry felt a strange numbness flow through him. The fear he'd felt earlier left him, and in its place was the most terrible, tentative hope.

It couldn't be real. It couldn't actually be this easy, he thought. He gripped Severus' chest tighter and closed his eyes to feel for him through the bond.

"Severus?" he whispered, feeling as though he was stronger now than he had been a few moments before. The hope came back, more substantial, and Harry held his breath as he listened to Severus breathe.

His chest grumbled and then he coughed loudly, tilting his head back and opening his eyes. Harry gasped and held him tighter.

"Harry?" Severus asked, his voice low and weak.

Harry couldn't help himself. He laughed, the sort of laugh that came with the sudden extinguishing of fear and exhaustion, and held Severus tighter. He felt hope return to him as Severus began to cough again, and Harry titled him up a bit more to help.

"Severus," Harry gasped, kissing his hair and his temple and his cheekbones. "Shh, I'm here. Everything's going to be all right," he whispered, a laugh still in his voice and the light in the room suddenly seeming to burn brighter. "Shh. Rest. I'll take care of you."


	40. Epilogue: Into the Great Unknown

This story is now complete. It took three years to write, almost to the day. I wrote out the plot in my head after a long illness, and put it to paper (hard drive, whatever) while coming down from a fever. Chapters 18 and 19 and the last scene were written before chapter one.

It's been a long journey, but also a fun one. I've had such a wonderful time writing this story, even when it was trying to kill me, even when I couldn't write a sex scene or action scene to save my life. I learned how to write while writing this story. And while I won't say I'm incredibly good at it, I know I've come a long way.

Thanks must go to every beta who helped along the way, but most particularly to Torina. She helped with the plot and stayed up late with me trying to twist plot points that I wouldn't write for a year. She's an amazing beta and I'm so grateful for her.

Thank you to everyone who stayed with me over the last three years. Your reviews and well wishes have been wonderful. I'll most likely write ficlets in this little universe, but the story as it is is now complete. I do hope you'll join me in my next story. I'm not sure if I'll do it as a WIP (it won't be anywhere near as long) or as a one-shot, but I'm not done with Harry and Severus yet.

* * *

And when they finally part, Harry will ask him, "How do you end this story? How can you possibly?" Severus folds the letter neatly in his hand. "You don't." - excerpt from Mia Ugly's Rapture

_Six months later_

Harry let his shoe sink into the mud as he looked around for another stone.

"Here," Ron said, putting a smooth black one in his hand. "Use this one."

"Thanks." He stared at the sunset for a moment, admiring the beauty of Hogwarts on a lovely summer evening, before he threw the stone. It skipped three times before it fell in, and Ron gave a disappointed grunt.

"You can do better than that." He picked up his own stone and threw it, and Harry watched it as it skipped four times before falling.

"Hardly any better."

"You're just a sore loser," Ron said with smile, bending down to look for another one. "So how have you been? It feels like it's been ages since I've seen you."

Harry ran a hand through his hair as he considered his life and the path it had taken in the past few months since Voldemort's death. "Good," he said. "Really good."

Ron nodded and threw another stone. "And Snape?"

Harry hid a smile as he thought about Severus. He'd be in his lab right now with his latest project, trying to get it ready before they had to leave. "He's good, too. Yeah, really...everything's great." Without thinking he said, "How are you?"

Ron shrugged. "Still dead."

Harry put his head down and looked for another rock.

"And you're leaving then?" Ron asked, not looking at Harry. "Leaving all this behind?"

_Leaving me behind_, was what Harry heard—what Ron had intended.

"That's not how I'd put it," Harry said.

"Well, how else can you put it?"

He wasn't sure how he would put it, but Harry no longer feared leaving his old life behind for an uncertain future. His and Severus' lives were their own now, and whatever they did would be decided by themselves, not by anything or anyone else. And though Ron's words stung, he knew that embracing their lives was the right decision. "I'm not forgetting about you," Harry said, his tone forceful, and he knew it was partially to convince himself. "Ever. You were my best friend, Ron."

"You're leaving me behind," Ron said, and the accusation hit a soft spot in Harry's heart.

He took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down. "That's not what you would have said," he whispered. "That's just what I'm afraid you would have said."

He stared out at the lake for a few minutes, the soft song of the outdoors the only sound to be heard, before he looked over at Ron again.

He looked proud.

"You've been talking to Snape too much, mate."

"Definitely," Harry agreed. "Doesn't change the fact that this is a dream. I could never tell before, but I can now."

"Snape's influence?"

"Yeah." Harry was silent for a moment before he continued. "And this is probably the last time I'll talk to you like this...at least for a while."

Ron frowned into the sunset but nodded, not looking Harry in the eye.

"Leaving Hogwarts," Ron said. "It's a big day."

"Yeah. But I'll probably be back. I want to teach."

"Yeah? I think you'd be great at it."

Harry smiled with a knowing grin. "Yeah, I think so too."

They continued skipping rocks for a while, the silence companionable, before Harry turned to Ron for the last time.

"I miss you. It doesn't matter where I go or how many friends I make. I'm always going to miss you."

Ron smiled and punched Harry in the shoulder. "I miss you, too, mate." He looked up into the vastness of the clear sky, and Harry marveled for a moment at how large it all looked, and how small he felt under it.

"I'll see you on the other side then, yeah?" Ron said, bumping his shoulder again and smiling.

Harry sighed and looked down from the sky. "Is there another side?"

"Oh, yeah," Ron said, his smile never wavering. "There's definitely another side. Don't worry about that. That's where I'll be, mate." Ron smiled one last time and turned away.

Harry woke up slowly, his heart feeling oddly light for the dream he'd just had. He stretched out in the bed and first felt the coolness of the sheets, then the absence of Severus' warm body and, sighed. "See you on the other side," he said softly. He allowed himself the luxury of dozing for a while, his heart wistful as he mulled over this last dream. Knowing Severus was probably in his lab finishing his work and wouldn't be available for breakfast yet, he simply laid there until his mind caught up with his heart.

Today was a very big day. The Leaving Feast had been yesterday and all the younger years had already left the castle. Dumbledore had given permission to the students who had fought in the Final Battle to stay an extra evening, giving the chance for them to talk and relate their stories to each other without NEWTS and exams and anything else standing in their way.

It had been an interesting night to stay the least. The biggest surprise had been that no one had badgered Harry to talk or relate the story of how he'd defeated Voldemort. The papers had told the story for him, as well as the story of his and Severus' relationship. So he'd sat at the end of the Hufflepuff table in the Great Hall where his house mates as well as students from other houses had all come together to talk about that day before they scattered and got on with their lives.

Today they were all leaving. And while he wouldn't exactly miss most of his classmates fiercely, he knew he would miss Hermione something awful. The last six months had brought them far closer than they ever had been, even before Ron's death. Harry would miss her terribly while he was away, she and Remus both.

And while a part of him was sad, another part began to tremble with excitement at the thought of what leaving today meant. He stretched out onto Severus' side of the bed and his face rolled over a piece of parchment.

He blinked and picked up the paper, holding it closely so he could read Severus' spidery handwriting.

_We're meeting the headmaster for a late breakfast after I've finished in the lab. If you haven't slept the day away, of course, you lazy sod_.

There was no signature, but none was needed. Harry smirked, grabbing his glasses and wand off the table, and cast _Tempus_.

Whoops.

It was already nine-thirty. Chucking off the covers he quickly ran to the bathroom, made himself ready for the day, and was at the door in ten minutes flat.

He left their quarters and found Hermione on the other side of the door, hand raised as if she'd been about to knock.

"Hello!" she said, her face bright even if her eyes seemed a little sad.

"Good morning," he said, walking outside and closing the door behind him. He had half a mind to tell her he'd speak to her later, knowing that breakfast was most likely over, but then he noticed a tear in her eye. "Hermione?"

"We're leaving," she said with a slight tremble in her voice. "All the others that stayed—the Hogwarts Express is making that special trip in an hour, and..."

He felt his heart lurch a little and gave a soft smile. That seemed to undo any resolve Hermione had left because she made a whimpering sound and threw herself into his arms.

"Oh, I'm going to miss you so much!" she cried, and Harry held her back. "It's going to be so strange not seeing you every day. I don't know what I'm going to do with myself."

Kissing her cheek, he pushed her away just enough so he could look at her face. "I think you'll do whatever it is you want to do, and probably a little better than anyone else." He grasped her hand and started walking towards the staircase. "When does university begin?"

"September first, same as here. I have to admit, I am excited," she said, turning to him with a bright smile on her face, as though she hadn't been crying a moment before. "There are so many archaic wizarding laws and there really aren't that many people who are experts at them, and to be able to really use the law to help..."

She trailed off when she noticed the huge grin that had broken out on Harry's face.

"Shut up," she said. "Let's just say I'm looking forward to continuing my education. Are you sure you won't join me? I know you're looking forward to your trip—"

"_Our_ trip, and yes I am joining you, just a year later." He sighed as they stopped at the edge of the staircase. "I need a break, Hermione. And Severus _really_ needs a break. He's earned it, I think, and I think I might have too."

"Of course you have, both of you." She bit her lip and her eyes started to tear up again. "I'm just going to miss you so much."

"I'll miss you, too. But this isn't goodbye," Harry said. "Unless you're planning on not speaking to me when I get there next year."

She punched him on the shoulder playfully and shook her head. "You're a part of me, Harry. I could never—" She took a deep breath and smiled as she said, "I want to be your friend for the rest of my life."

Harry felt a tremble go through him at the sincerity of her words and knew that no matter where this year took him or whether he returned to Hogwarts or not, he would never, ever let Hermione go. "You will be," he said, his voice low and shaking. He took her into his arms and buried his face in her hair, memorizing the feel of her, how she always smelled so sweet. "I do love you."

"I love you, too," she said, laughing through her tears. She pulled away and said, "Now hopefully your partner will warm up to me, at least a little."

"What are you talking about? Severus likes you," Harry said, perhaps stretching the truth a little. "He's like that with everyone, even Remus, and he's his best friend."

"All I know is that friendships that don't meet with the approval of the significant other often end badly." Hermione crossed her arms and sighed. "I just want him to maybe not dislike me too much."

"Trust me, that will never be a problem," Harry said.

"The last time I was in your rooms he called me a—"

"This morning he left me a love note that called me a lazy sod. Trust me, he doesn't mean it," Harry said with a smile. He kissed her cheek one last time and said, "I have to meet Severus and Dumbledore for breakfast. Did you want me to walk with you to the Entrance Hall?"

Hermione looked back down the hall towards the potions lab and shook her head. "No, there's one last thing I want to do first." She squeezed Harry's hand and asked, "Write me?"

Harry nodded. "Every step of the way."

She smiled and held his gaze for a moment longer before she turned away and Harry ran up the steps toward Severus, his heart aching lightly but still freer than it had ever been.

* * *

"It's nine o'clock in the morning, Albus," Severus said as he watched Dumbledore pour them each a small glass of wine.

"Just a drop won't hurt. And after all, we're both on holiday," Dumbledore said, reaching over to set the wine glass on the breakfast table that had been set up in his office. "Although some holidays are longer than others."

"Yes," Severus said, considering the journey ahead of them. "It's going to be very odd not working for an entire year."

"You shouldn't suffer, either of you, especially considering your compensation from the Ministry." He gave Severus a fond look. "Although I doubt that was your meaning."

"Hardly," Severus said as he looked down into his glass and took a moment to consider his life.

No one had been more surprised than him to discover he'd survived the war. He had little memory of those first few days of drifting in and out of consciousness, and he'd thought he was dead when he'd finally seen Harry sitting over him. To discover that he and Harry had both survived was nearly overwhelming. He'd been absolutely certain he would die giving Harry the power needed to defeat the Dark Lord. After living so long with the assumption that he'd not see the end of it, to actually come out breathing on the other side of the war was disconcerting.

Not that he was complaining.

And now he was faced with the strangest problem. He'd spent his entire adult life striving for something—atonement. And now that he had it, he found himself in an odd place. He'd been living his life with one sole purpose for so long, and now that purpose was gone. What was left? he'd been forced to ask.

As if on cue, Severus felt Harry stir from his sleep. A wistful feeling and slight sadness filtered through the bond, and Severus recalled exactly what he was living for.

Life is for living, Harry had told him several months prior, when Severus had confessed his feelings about surviving. And what he and Severus had been doing before could barely be called living.

But all that was behind them now. The future shone brightly before them, with no certain path and no foreseeable goal larger than Harry's education. Whatever future they had now, it would be their own.

"I'm going to miss you, Severus; you and Harry both," Dumbledore said. "Although, if anyone ever deserved a holiday it's the two of you." Dumbledore looked down at his wine glass and asked, "Will Harry be joining us after all?"

"Doubtful. He's only just waking."

"Ah, well, I suppose I'll be having two glasses of wine this morning." He raised his glass to Severus and said, "To your next great adventure."

"Thank you, Albus," Severus said, taking a drink. "Although I believe I've had enough adventures for one lifetime."

Dumbledore smiled. "Something tells me that life with Harry Potter will be quite the adventure in itself. Where will you be going first?"

Severus sighed. "'Wherever the wind takes us,' he says. I haven't the heart to tell him that wherever we're going, it most definitely won't be by sailboat."

"The world is a very big place. Even if you are taking an entire year to see it."

"I imagine at least some of that time will be spent trying to find a new home for us," Severus said, remembering conversations on how with houses on both Spinner's End and Godric's Hollow destroyed, he and Harry were homeless at the moment.

"While I do understand the desire to have your own property, you do know that Hogwarts will always be available to you, regardless of whether or not the term has ended."

"Thank you," Severus said, grateful. Harry felt the same as Severus, that Hogwarts would always be home to them.

"I admit I was concerned I might be losing my potions master after the end of the war," Dumbledore said. "What with Harry being safe now and your duty fulfilled."

Severus cleared his throat and considered how much he should reveal. "I was surprised as well," Severus said, though he knew it was hardly the truth. As much as his struggle for atonement had been a burden, Hogwarts had been home to him for a very long time. He and Harry had their love for the castle in common. "However, I have no desire to leave my post permanently."

"Many things can change over the course of a year," Dumbledore said. "Just look at where we were exactly a year ago. Look how far we've come."

Severus cleared his throat and considered this. Thankfully, his current life didn't vaguely resemble what it had been a year ago. His eyes drifted over to Dumbledore's desk, where his chess pieces were set out, ready for two players to begin a game. His eyes closed of their own accord as he felt Harry still dozing in the back of his mind.

"Indeed," he said, tearing himself away from his thoughts. "However...Hogwarts is home. To both myself and Harry," he continued, taking another sip from his glass. "You needn't fear finding a permanent replacement."

"Speaking of Hogwarts and Harry..."

_Here it comes_, Severus thought.

"He's expressed interest in taking up the Defense position once he completes his mastery."

"He is young and Hogwarts is all he knows," Severus said, repeating things he'd told Harry when they'd had this exact conversation, wincing when he recalled the argument that had started. "Once he goes out into the world and sees he has other options he will most likely change his mind."

"It's possible, yes," Dumbledore said, considering Severus. "I believe you also thought he would change his mind about you."

"Hmph," Severus said, but could not deny it. "He is also quite possibly enamored of the idea of working with me. I'm trying to convince him that he can still live with me in the castle and work elsewhere during the day."

"Of course he could. But somehow I don't believe this career plan centers completely around you, Severus."

Huffing, Severus said, "Perhaps not. But I want him to make choices based on what he wants, not based on what he thinks I would like."

"Well, there's still time yet for him to change his mind. And a mastery in Defense will earn him several career options, Hogwarts being one of them." Dumbledore smiled as he finished his wine. "His future looks very bright indeed. Yours as well."

Severus had to look down at the table at that last statement. Yes, for the first time in a very long time he was optimistic about his future. The idea of living with Harry—truly _living_—caused his heart to soar, and he again thanked Fate for the path that had led them into a relationship.

And that was the largest surprise of all. That Fate had brought them together, that they had done what they were meant to do and still somehow had their entire lives ahead of them.

He sighed again and nodded, the awkward silence broken by breakfast for three being delivered by a house elf.

Dumbledore cast a stasis charm over Harry's bowl, and Severus winced as he looked down into it.

Harry really needed to have a discussion with the elves. When they returned, Severus thought as he picked up his spoon.

"What are you doing?" Dumbledore asked.

Severus continued spooning the raisins out of Harry's bowl and into his own, hardly aware he'd started. With a look to Dumbledore, he glanced down at Harry's bowl and gave a small smile at where his life had taken him.

"Removing the corpses of dead grapes," he said, and though he said it with a grumble his heart felt lighter than it ever had.

* * *

Severus carefully set out his strongest potions vials along a table in his lab. He had just finished it in time, and after six months of work Severus had to say even he was impressed with himself.

The potion had cooled overnight, and he began the long and tedious process of carefully pouring it into the vials. His efforts had taken so long to complete, and the goal had been of such import that he was not willing to risk an accident now.

_Sadness_

_Melancholy_

Severus nearly dropped his vial when Harry's sorrow filled him through the bond. Knowing that he was likely saying goodbye to Hermione Granger, he did not allow himself to become too distracted. It was difficult, though; to feel Harry's distress, to know what was causing it, and to not immediately run to his side.

It was a difficult thing, he thought, to still be bonded after the war. To feel Harry's pain and know that some of it was the sort of pain Harry needed to deal with quietly. Or to feel Harry's shock or grief so suddenly and so strongly but know that it didn't mean he should end his potions class at that moment and run to aid him. That there was time now.

Time to speak about the events of their day while they ate their dinner at night. Time to talk about loss and wonder and _dear Merlin, the war is finally over and we've won, we're alive_ until they were both so tired they fell asleep in each other's arms.

Severus continued decanting the potion into the vials because there was time now. He would ask Harry about it later.

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Enter," he said, sure Harry had come to tell him about his farewell with Granger.

He did not expect the lady in question to peek her head through the door.

"Professor Snape? Hello! I'm not interrupting, am I?"

_Be nice_, he could hear Harry's voice echoing in his head, a request he had made a dozen times over the past six months. With a sigh. he turned away from his potions and said, "Harry isn't here."

Granger slipped through the door and closed it behind her. "I know. He went to go meet you and Professor Dumbledore for breakfast."

Severus lifted an eyebrow. The lazy sod had slept half the day away.

"How did you know I was here?" he asked.

"I heard you drop something on my way toward your quarters," Granger said, walking further into the room.

Merlin, the girl was going to try to talk to him. Severus forced himself to breath regularly and reminded himself that she had ceased being his student a day ago and it was certainly not becoming to throw a lady out into the hallway on her arse.

"Is there a reason you're here?"

"Well, I wanted to say goodbye," she said with a shy, hesitant smile.

"Goodbye," Severus said, then turned back to his cauldron.

He heard Granger shuffle her feet on the floor for a moment before he heard her footsteps come closer. Looking up to meet her eyes, Severus paused and turned away from his cauldrons. With her chin up and her eyes focused, he was forcibly reminded that this girl had fought beside him in the Final Battle, that she had saved his life and cut down Lucius Malfoy without pausing.

And she would never fear the likes of Severus ever again.

"I imagine we'll be seeing each other soon," she said, and to him it seemed that she was forcing herself to be polite. "I care very much for Harry, and I know you do as well. It would be nice if we could get along."

"What is it you want exactly, Miss Granger?" Severus asked, finally losing his patience. "As you can see, I am very busy. These potions must be stored very carefully and I must finish before Harry and I can leave."

"Please call me Hermione, Professor," she said softly. He raised an eyebrow and she faltered for a moment. "I don't recognize this potion. It looks very similar to wolfsbane. What is it?"

"It _is_ wolfsbane," he said. At her disbelieving look, he continued, "For the past six months I've been working on altering the formula to make its potency last longer. This potion has the shelf life of six months."

"That's...incredible. My God, that's amazing! What exactly did you change—"

"I've published an article on my findings in Potions Quarterly. You can read about it there."

"Oh. Yes, of course." Defeat found its way onto her face and she smiled once more before she said, "I'm sorry to have distracted you. I'll let you get back to your work. I look forward to seeing you again soon, Professor Snape."

Severus sighed as he watched her walk to the door. He reminded himself that this was Harry's friend and someone who was likely to be in his life for quite some time.

And then he recalled that, though she may have had her own reasons, this was the girl who had saved his life. Perhaps Severus didn't enjoy owing another person a life debt, but a voice that sounded quite like Harry's said that it wouldn't hurt him to show her a shred of kindness.

And besides all that, she was Harry's friend, and Severus knew that hurting her would mean hurting Harry.

"Miss Granger," Severus said, clearing his throat. He could not qualify how her eyes lit up as he stopped her retreat. "I could use a steady hand if you'd like to offer your assistance."

"Of course!" she said, taking the gesture for exactly what it was. "Thank you," she said softly, looking into his eyes so he knew she wasn't talking about the potion. Severus hummed a reply and said nothing.

She asked a few questions about the properties of the potion as they were all poured into vials. He would leave the sealing for himself. He had to be absolutely sure this potion was bottled correctly.

"I'm glad I could help, Professor Snape," she said, washing her hands and walking toward the door.

"Miss Granger," he called back, and she turned around. "When next we meet, you may call me Severus."

The smile she gave him could have rivaled the sun's for all its brightness. "Thank you, Professor Snape." She took one last look around the lab, appearing pensive and uncertain of herself; of whatever she wanted to say next.

He gave her a moment—because he really couldn't see the woman who had bested Lucius Malfoy backing down from anything—and then she finally asked, "Professor? You made this potion for Remus, didn't you?"

Severus curled his fingers around a table and thought to deny the accusation, but realized he would fool no one. In an attempt to keep at least some of his dignity, he said, "Can you imagine the havoc he would create if he was left unattended? That man has all the responsibility of a five-year-old."

Granger was quiet for a moment before she said, "He must be a very good friend for you to go to all this trouble." He looked at her but said nothing until she smiled at him one last time and left.

He waited until the door was firmly shut behind her before he said to no one, "He's my only friend."

* * *

"Sorry I'm late, Professor Dumbledore."

Dumbledore waved him off and poured him a glass of wine, which prompted Harry's eyebrows to jump up near his hairline. "Um, it's ten in the morning."

"Yes, but we're on holiday," Dumbledore said. "And this is a celebration. You've completed your education at Hogwarts and are about to embark on a year-long adventure." He poured himself a small glass and said, "A part of me envies you, my boy."

Harry smiled softly and began to eat his breakfast, wishing he'd gotten up early enough to eat with Severus. At least the house elves had finally stopped putting raisins in his oatmeal. The silence between them was comfortable as Harry ate and Dumbledore nibbled on some leftover toast.

His eyes began to wander, and Harry's mind drifted back to last summer and where this year had taken them. The chess board still looked so odd to Harry with all its pieces intact.

Harry sighed. "This last year has been..."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow.

"Well, it's been one hell of a year, sir."

Dumbledore chuckled. "To say the very least. Now tell me, Harry, how are you?"

The question stirred something in Harry that had been forgotten. Not sure how he was supposed to answer, he nodded and said, "Fine, sir. How are you?"

"No, Harry," Dumbledore said, smiling sadly. "How are you truly?"

The small part of Harry that would always look on Dumbledore as his first real mentor gave a shout of joy, and he waited to see if his more cynical side would present itself and want to ask what had taken Dumbledore so long to really ask this question.

It never arrived, and Harry thought that maybe that meant he'd finally forgiven Dumbledore for everything that had happened. A year ago he wouldn't have been tempted to answer Dumbledore with the truth. It was a testament to how far they'd come that Harry didn't think he could lie to him now. And more than that, he found he didn't want to.

"Honestly..." Harry started, then leaned back in his chair and considered the floor. "Excited, nervous...and a little bit frightened."

"Frightened?"

Harry held two fingers about an inch apart. "Just a bit."

Dumbledore nodded. "I believe 'excited, nervous and a little bit frightened' is exactly what you should be feeling. It's what I would feel were I you."

"Yeah."

"So will you be gone for the entire year?"

Harry nodded. "We'll be back for the Christmas holiday. You know, spend some time with the Weasleys, see Remus and Hermione."

"And your old headmaster, of course."

"Of course," Harry said, smiling. "I don't think I could be away from home for so long anyway. Hogwarts is a part of me."

"I understand the feeling," Dumbledore said. "Severus seems to believe that your desire to return as a professor will pass as you gain some worldly experience."

Harry huffed. "I think I've had enough worldly experience if you ask me."

Dumbledore smiled and leaned back in his chair. "I believe he meant another kind."

"Yeah, well Severus always thinks I don't know my own mind," Harry said, recalling their argument. "And I really don't think I'm going to change my decision. I liked teaching. It was something I was good at, and I think I could be great at it if I tried."

"I believe you're right."

"And besides all that...Hogwarts is home to me. And no matter where I go or what I see or experience it's always going to be home."

Dumbledore smiled and looked proudly at Harry. "I'm very glad to hear you say that, Harry. I believe you'll do wonderfully at university, and you will be more than welcome to join Hogwarts' staff upon the completion of your education. However..."

Harry stopped eating his oatmeal and looked up, uncertain he would like what he was about to hear.

"Should you change your mind and decide upon another career path, you would still be welcome to live with Severus here in the castle." The smile left Dumbledore's face and he said, "Do not feel as though you will be removed from your home should you choose not to become a professor. You will always be welcome at Hogwarts, regardless of where your life takes you."

Harry's throat constricted for a moment before he nodded and said, "Thank you. That's good to—thank you. Really."

"I believe it is I who should be thanking you, Harry," Dumbledore said, gesturing at the room. "All of this is your doing. Yours and Severus'."

Harry shook his head. He didn't believe that. "We just did what we had to do, same as you."

"Yes," Dumbledore said slowly, "but that didn't make the journey any less difficult."

They were silent for a moment, Harry with a large lump in his throat and Dumbledore smiling proudly.

"No," Harry said. "For any of us."

The smile slipped from Dumbledore's face, and he picked up his glass. "No," was all he said. He wiped a hand across his face, his eyes lost in a haze of memory, and Harry recalled everything that Dumbledore had lost in his fight against darkness.

"I'm so very glad for you and Severus, Harry," he said finally. "You deserve happiness. Both of you."

"Thank you, Professor."

"Now go, my boy," he said, shooing Harry off. "Your life is your own." With a smile, he said, "Go live it."

* * *

Lupin opened the door to Severus' lab without permission and leaned on the doorframe. "Hello...darling."

Severus immediately fired off a burning hex, setting Lupin's robes on fire.

"Bloody—Severus, why?" he shouted before he was able to extinguish the flames.

"Why?" Severus repeated, seething. "I have asked you on no less than three occasions to stop mocking me in that manner, and on each of those three occasions I warned you that I would hex you should you not."

"Yes, but I didn't think you actually meant it!" Lupin came into the room and closed the door. His outer robes were in burnt shreds. "You know I only have a few sets of robes."

"You know I hate being mocked!"

Lupin opened his mouth to defend himself, then seemed to think better of it and snapped it shut. "There's a difference between mocking and a joke between friends," he said with a sigh. "But I suppose that's asking for too much, isn't it?"

"Talking to yourself now?"

"So it would seem." Lupin looked dismal as he took in the state of his robes, and Severus recalled those might be his nicest pair. He would not feel guilty.

Not today.

"So was there a reason you summoned me...aside from setting me on fire?"

Severus turned back to his bench and continued sealing his potions, a knot suddenly acquainting itself with his throat.

Ridiculous.

He cleared it and said, "Harry was the one to call you to Hogwarts, if you recall." He had no idea why he was suddenly nervous, but he felt Harry cheering him on in the back of his mind and knew his deflection wouldn't help matters.

"The postscript of Harry's letter asked me to visit you in your lab." Lupin stepped closer to the bench. "You do remember, don't you? You know, they say that memory is the first thing to—" He stopped speaking abruptly, and Severus noticed the startled look on Lupin's face as he finally saw what Severus was bottling.

His footsteps light, almost as though he feared startling the potion away, Lupin approached Severus. "What is that?" he asked softly.

Severus cleared his throat again—damn knot—and said, "The reason I asked you to visit my lab." He considered drawing out his explanation, but seeing the look of cautious optimism on Lupins' face changed his mind. "When Harry and I first began discussing our plans to travel for the next year, a thought occurred to me."

Uncomfortable under Lupin's intense stare, Severus turned and resumed bottling. "There are few potions masters who can brew the wolfsbane potions successfully, and I doubt you would rely on Albus to find someone to produce it for you every month."

"I've...gone without," Lupin said, sounding lost.

"Yes, but—" But there was no need to go without, Severus did not say. He cleared his throat again, closed his eyes and allowed himself to feel Harry's encouragement. "It is unsafe for the wizarding population for you to go without."

"But I'm never—"

Severus banged his fist on his bench, and Lupin silenced. "For the past six months I have been working on modifying the wolfsbane formula so its potency lasts longer than a few minutes."

Lupin's eyes began to shine as he took in all the bottles littering Severus' benches.

"This brew has the shelf life of six months. It still has to be taken every day the week before the full moon, but I've brewed enough to last until the end of the year."

With a shaking hand, Lupin reached out to grasp one of the sealed bottles. He held it like it was a lifeline.

And Severus knew it was. Both he and Harry had felt the constant pain Lupin endured due to his condition. If the wolfsbane could help relieve even a small amount of it...

"You—"

"Harry and I will be returning to Hogwarts for the Christmas holiday," Severus said, wanting to delay Lupin's show of emotions for a least a moment longer. "I will make another six months' supply for you then, and then again when we return for the summer."

"Oh, Severus," Lupin breathed, then looked up from the bottle to meet Severus' eyes. "I can't possibly— Thank you."

"It was purely for the sake of the challenge, I assure you."

"No, it wasn't," Lupin said, his words coming out in a rushed breath. "I'm not sure why you did it, but not—for Harry?"

The knot returned to Severus' throat, and he finished sealing the last bottles. Knowing his first reason would be denied, Severus gave another.

"You would have kept your promise."

He heard Lupin shuffling his feet along the floor. "My promise?"

"The one you made to me before the last battle. You would have kept it."

Lupin was silent for a moment, then said, "With my dying breath."

"That wasn't a question," Severus snapped. He was no good at this. "You _would_ have kept it. I acknowledge my debts, Lupin."

Soft footsteps sounded across the stone floors, and Lupin came into Severus' view. "It wouldn't have been a debt, Severus. Taking care of Harry has never been a debt to me. You know that."

A dozen conversations with Harry about this very topic returned to Severus in that moment, and he could hear that little voice prodding him and Harry through the bond encouraging him to end his ridiculous denial.

"Call it what you like," he said, summoning a satchel and placing the sealed potions within.

"A gift between friends?"

There was a question in it, an out, and Severus could still deny it if he desired. But after all this time, he found he no longer wanted to. It was exhausting, and he felt as though he was starting a brand new life.

He grumbled to himself, but once again marveled at how much he had changed in a year.

It was all Harry's fault, of course.

Not looking at Lupin, he closed the satchel and said, "If you must."

Lupin seemed overwhelmed, but somehow knew Severus well enough to know he was floundering in all the long-denied regard. With a smile and a grateful look, he said, "I'm sorry I don't have anything for you."

"Well, you've never had any problem taking from me," Severus replied, sarcasm coming to him easily. "My good Scotch, hair from my own brush, my bondmate's time..."

"Oh, I do not."

"Really?" he asked, cleaning his equipment. "I am ready to leave now. Yet something tells me that you and Harry aren't going to have a quick goodbye."

Lupin shook his head, his eyes still shining. "I'm meeting him on the pitch."

"Whatever for?"

Lupin shrugged and laughed nervously. "I've no idea. Severus—"

Knowing the sentimental speech Severus had feared was approaching, he cut him off. "Don't. Please, Lupin."

"But, Severus—"

"Shut up. How is your work at the bookstore?" he asked, stumbling for something to distract from Lupin's gratitude and sentimental declarations that Severus would have no idea what to do with.

"It's...it's good. Quiet. The pay could be better, but I get to read all day." He smiled softly and leaned against Severus' desk. "Can't ask for more than that."

Severus nodded and placed the satchel in Lupin's hands. He cleared his throat and said, "And Nymphadora?"

"She's well," Lupin said with a grin. "Things are going slowly, but they're progressing...nicely."

Severus smirked, glad to be back on familiar ground. "You aren't getting any younger, Lupin. Who would have guessed I'd have been leg-shackled before you?"

"Merlin, don't I know it," Lupin said. "But we don't all have Fate pushing us together. I think...you'll be seeing her some time in the future. There's still hope left."

"Yes," Severus said, putting away the last of his stirring rods and walking Lupin toward the door and out into the hallway. "Hope."

Lupin turned and clutched the satchel carefully against his side. "I'll see you both for the holidays, then?"

Severus nodded, then straightened his shoulders and cleared his throat. Merlin, he'd already all but shouted it from the rooftops. The gesture would change nothing, but to Severus it did.

Slowly, he extended his hand. To his credit, Lupin only smiled half as wide as Severus knew he was capable of as he shook it. Extremely uncomfortable, Severus muttered, "You always were a bastard."

Lupin just laughed and let go of his hand, then patted his shoulder. "Try to enjoy yourself, Severus."

Severus grunted, then turned to walk—swiftly—to his quarters to retrieve his trunk and dignity.

"I'm grateful, Severus!" Lupin said, almost shouting. "You can't know what this means to me."

Severus sighed. He'd brought it on himself, really. "If you're planning on wetting my robes with your tears at Christmas you can forget the whole thing." Lupin had the gall to smile at him, and Severus scowled before he entered his rooms.

* * *

Harry winced a bit as he took in how flustered Remus looked as he dismounted. "Er, you almost beat me that last time."

"That's because...you slowed down to something approaching dragon speed." Remus said, hair almost as messy as Harry's. "Your father and Sirius were always the better flyers. I was the bookish one."

"You're a decent flyer," Harry said, then quickly backtracked when he saw Remus scoff. "Better than decent, good even. Really." Slowly, Harry turned his head towards the pitch and felt something like melancholy well up within him.

_Worry_

With a smile, Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath. His thoughts left Quidditch and drifted to how different it was being bonded to Severus after the war. Fear and nervousness usually meant Harry had no idea how to answer a question on his Charms test, sadness meant he was missing Sirius or Ron, and anger was nearly always something petty.

Not like how it had been. Not like when everything had seemed (and had been) a matter of life and death. Not when Harry's fear had meant one of them was damn close to dying. Not when Severus' feeling miserable meant he'd believed himself so unworthy of Harry's love. Everything was so much quieter now, and it had taken Severus a while to realize that melancholy was something Harry would talk about with him. Just like it had taken time for Harry to realize Severus would always need reminders of his love and affection. But there was time for both now.

"It'll still be here," Remus said, distracting Harry from his thoughts. "And I'm sure there will be places for you to fly on your travels."

"Yeah, but I'll miss the pitch." He cast _Tempus_ and realized Severus was probably already tapping his foot waiting for him. "You ready?"

Remus nodded, then went to collect Severus' satchel before they began their walk back down to the dungeons.

"Severus already gave them to you."

"Yes," Remus said, smiling. "Greatest gift anyone's ever given me."

"Severus likes to show his feelings through potions," Harry said, standing on his toes for a moment to demonstrate. "LIke, if he was a poet he'd write his friends and lover sonnets or something. Or if he was a chef he'd bake us a cake."

"Potions master, so—"

"Potions."

"It's still a marvelous gift."

"Yeah," Harry said, still amazed and so very proud of Severus' generosity. "It really is. So, what's this about?" he asked, toying with the frayed ends of Remus' robes.

"Severus still doesn't understand the difference between cruelty and gentle teasing, apparently."

"So he actually hexed you?"

"He actually hexed me."

"Huh. I know he always said he would, but I never believed he'd actually do it."

Remus held up his singed robes. "Physical evidence."

Harry couldn't help himself. He laughed. The laugh escalated when Remus frowned at him. "I'm sorry, but you have to admit it's funny."

Sighing, Remus said, "I suppose it is. So," he said, as they entered the castle, "where will you go first?"

"You know, I have no idea," Harry said, laughing at himself. "For months I thought by the time this day came around I'd know exactly where we would go first, second, third. I thought Severus would harass me into making an itinerary, but he didn't. He hasn't pestered me at all actually."

Harry smiled at the thought of how amazing Severus had been these past few months, so patient with him when Harry had been sure he'd drive him insane. But they'd learned how to live with each other and without the threat of violence and death hanging over them. To Harry, it was like the first time he was really living.

"I think he's still amazed to be alive," Remus said. "I know I am."

So was Harry, but he had no desire for dark thoughts today. "Yeah, but I'm pretty sure his patience has limits. Like, I've always wanted to go to a roller coaster park. But something tells me that if I were to try to drag Severus to one of those I'd get my eyebrows hexed off for my efforts."

"Somehow I doubt that. Something tells _me_ that if you were to ask Severus to take you to Antarctica to pet the penguins he'd go out and buy a parka."

Harry laughed, and let himself enjoy the mental image of Severus surrounded by creatures that looked just like him, then laughed harder when he felt Severus' annoyance through the bond.

"You know, I didn't get to really ask him—I was too busy marveling at my potion—how he's feeling?" Remus gestured to his chest. "Is he—?"

"All better. At least until next winter, apparently."

Remus nodded. "And his shoulder?"

Harry sighed, then cursed the damned soul of Lucius Malfoy. "Marshall and Mildred are fine, but Dimitri will never be the same again, the poor bastard."

"What?"

"Nothing. So what about you? How are you?" Harry asked, always a little ashamed at how their conversations always started with him. "Think you'll still be at the bookstore this time next year?"

Remus shrugged as they began the path to his and Severus' quarters. The castle was still and cool and Harry already felt a little homesick for it.

"I hope so. Reading books, shelving books, helping customers find books..." He sighed and put his hands in his pockets. "It's a very quiet life compared to the one I lived this last year."

"Yeah." That was an understatement. "I think that's what I'd like. A quiet life." Thoughts of returning to Hogwarts in a few years made his heart feel light. Severus was a warm, tender feeling somewhere in the back of his mind, and he closed his eyes and enjoyed him. "And what about Tonks? She's anything but quiet. She's...like me."

"She's clumsier than you, I think."

"You and Severus can commiserate when we go out together."

Remus laughed loudly, almost in shock, and ran a hand through his hair. "When we go out together... Like normal people." He shook his head and chuckled.

"What?" Harry asked, opening the door to his and Severus' rooms. "We're normal people."

"We most certainly are not normal people, Harry. Well...maybe I am, but you and Severus are most definitely not. In fact, I think this is the longest we've ever talked and not spoken about war or death or misery or other terrible things that no normal man would ever need to talk about."

Harry rolled his eyes, then went and sat on the sofa. "You want normal talk, fine? How's Tonks really?"

"Lovely," Remus said, smiling and sitting on the opposite side of the sofa. "It's—I thought it was too late for me," he said slowly. "I thought surely I'd never find..."

_Love_, Harry thought, and knew that was something Remus had wanted for a long time, past failed relationships be damned.

"That's great, Remus," Harry said. "Tonks is great." Feeling mischievous, he asked a question he'd wanted to ask for a while now. "So, I was wondering... When you and her are in the sack, does she ever...?" He waved his hands in front of his face and chest and tried to mimic the way Tonks could change her appearance.

"No! Merlin!" He looked somewhere between disgusted and amused. "Did Severus put you up to that?"

"What?" Harry said, laughing. "You wanted normal talk."

"Not that normal."

Harry laughed and leaned against the sofa heavily. "Damn, I'll miss this. Oh!" Suddenly a thought occurred to him, something brilliant that Severus would most likely kill him for later. "You should visit us!"

"What?"

"While we're traveling. You should go with us for a bit. Do you think the shop will let you go on holiday?"

"Er, Harry...that's very kind, but my own finances aren't what—"

"Oh, don't worry about that."

Remus frowned at that and actually looked a little upset, which surprised Harry. "What I mean, is Severus and I both owe you so much. If anything this is something we should have given you a while ago."

"Neither of you ever owed me a thing," Remus said, still looking a bit upset. "But if you ever did, I'll take this," he patted the satchel, "as payment in full."

"Then come because I'd like you there. We both would. And Tonks too!" Harry said with a smile, relieved when the frown left Remus' face and he seemed to consider Harry's offer.

"Maybe for a few days in the spring. And somewhere close," he said, and the frown left his face at last. "I imagine it'll take at least that long to convince Severus."

"One week out of an entire year isn't asking much. Plus, you know he likes you. He made you a potion."

Remus sighed. "Yes, he did. Well," he said, casting a look around the room. "I imagine the house elves will have their work cut out for them keeping dust away from Severus' books. Shouldn't he be here?"

Harry looked around, then went into the bedroom and found only his trunk still sitting by the bed. Sighing, he took one more look around the room, then shrank the trunk and put it in his pocket. He gave the purple blanket a smile and goodbye pet, then closed the door.

"I think he's probably in the Entrance Hall waiting for me," Harry said, looking around the sitting room to make sure they hadn't left anything.

"Ah. I'll say goodbye then. Thank Severus for me again, please," Remus said, rising slowly. He smiled broadly and picked up his satchel. "I'll see you both at Christmas."

"Yeah," Harry extended a hand, his heart twisting just a bit. Remus shook it, then pulled him forward into a one-armed embrace.

"Enjoy yourself, Harry. And make sure Severus does the same."

Harry grasped his shoulder one last time before he let go. They walked quietly before they parted ways at the Entrance Hall, Remus apparently heading towards Dumbledore's office and Harry outside. A quiet ache filled him, and Harry said one more time, "Thank you, Remus. For everything."

Turning on his heel, Remus returned the smile, his expression happier than Harry had ever seen it and said, "Believe me, Harry, it was my pleasure."

* * *

Severus turned as he saw Harry—standing three quarters of an inch taller than he had six months prior—walk outside and into the shadow where he had been waiting.

"Hello, darling."

Severus rolled his eyes. "Will you please stop calling me that?"

"Why? I'm the only person in the world who will ever be able to call you that." He approached Severus with a sly smile. "And live to tell the tale, of course."

"Is that so? I thought you'd just said goodbye to Lupin," Severus said with a smirk.

"That's what caused the burnt robes?" Harry laughed and shook his head, then wrapped his arms around Severus and held him tight. He returned the embrace, and knew he'd never grow tired of holding Harry in this way. "Poor Remus."

"Him?" Severus said, pushing Harry away, slightly put out. "I'm the one that was being mocked. Can you not feign some concern?"

"Ah. So sorry, Severus." Harry straightened his back and forced a straight face. "Do you want me to kill him for you?"

"Hmph. Are these the sort of juvenile antics I can look forward to for the rest of my life?"

"Probably," Harry said, smile returning.

Severus sniffed and forced a sigh. "I suppose there are worse fates."

Harry shook his head, smile gone. "Not for us. Not anymore," he said, wrapping himself around Severus again. "Mmm. Missed you," Harry said into his robes.

"Did you?" Severus asked, smile returning to him. He ran his fingers through Harry's hair, feeling foolish as he admitted to himself he'd missed Harry as well.

A hand found its way into his robes. "Haven't seen you all day."

"You saw me last night."

"Yes, but that was ages ago," Harry said, looking up into Severus' eyes and smiling.

And there, with the sun shining brightly and their uncertain future illuminated with so many possibilities, Severus held Harry in his arms, so grateful and bewildered his path had led him here. His heart light and the bond happy between them, Severus descended the short distance and kissed him.

Lips and tongues met slowly, the sound of moisture meeting moisture loud and Harry's soft sigh filling Severus' consciousness. The kiss was unhurried, unrushed, not at all like so many of their kisses had been before, when their future had been so uncertain. They kissed slowly now, and enjoyed each other because they could. Because there was time for it all.

There was time for everything now.

Harry sighed as the kiss ended, resting his forehead against Severus' nose. "I love you," he whispered softly.

Severus kissed his face and didn't release his embrace as Harry turned his head towards the ground.

_Anxiety_

_Fear_

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"Yeah," Harry said, smiling, looking back towards Severus. "It's just a little..." He trailed off and ran a hand through his hair. "I'm a little sad to be leaving, even though I'm _really_ not sad all this is over." He gestured towards the ground where the last battle had taken place. "I'm nervous. Just a little bit. Is that odd?"

"Not at all," Severus said. "Your life in particular has always been written for you. But now—"

"Some things are meant to be," Harry said, repeating the conversation they'd had several times before. "And some things are left up to us."

"Yes." They had done everything they had to do, Severus thought. The rest of it was up to them.

"It's just that...it feels like something is ending."

"Something _is_ ending, Harry," Severus said, placing a protective hand on Harry's shoulder, as he had when Harry had last needed him.

Harry smiled. "Sometimes you say 'Harry' the way I say 'darling.'"

Scoffing, and knowing he'd been discovered, Severus said, "You do have the greatest imagination." He held Harry's hand and said, "Something _is_ ending, but something far greater is beginning."

"Right." The smile faded. "And it will be better," Harry said, then looked again towards the grounds and out into the sun. "You'll be there."

It was hardly a question, but Severus wanted to make the declaration, today of all days. "Always."

Harry nodded, then laced his fingers with Severus' and took a deep breath. "You ready?"

"Indeed. I've been ready for an hour now. You're the one who needed to say goodbye to your pet wolf."

"Yeah," Harry said, distracted by his conflicting emotions. His palm was sweaty in Severus' hand. He looked into his eyes and declared, "I'm ready."

Severus smiled and looked out into the distance. Their future, path untold, was set before them. Whatever they decided to do with their lives would be up to them. All Severus knew for certain was that all their tomorrows would be spent together. He smiled before he could help himself, and grasped Harry's hand tighter.

"Well, Harry," he said, looking to him again, "what would you like to do first?"

"I don't know," Harry said, looking up at Severus with a smile as they left the shadows, "but we'll think of something."


End file.
